In Another Life
by the-glory-days
Summary: When Edward Cullen is killed in a car accident, it’s Bella Swan who finds herself helping his ghost find out why he died. All-Human, AU, A Twilight Retelling.
1. Prologue: Did You Hear The News That You

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Prologue**:

**Did You Hear The News That You're …?**

* * *

The little hand is on the eight, and the big hand is on the three.

8:15

Great, I'm late.

I'm gonna end up in detention.

Again.

I'm gonna set a record, or at least that's what my best friend, Angela, tells me. I'm always in detention for being late, never for doing anything wrong, just being late. Funny, how being late gets a person stuck in school for an extra hour with all the troublemakers.

I can already hear the fiery redhead receptionist in the office now. Her pitchy voice grating my ears, "Isabella Swan, you're late. Does Chief Swan, _your father_, know that you are always late?"

Yep, that's exactly what she's going to say, Chief Swan part, and all. She never fails to remind me that my dad is the town's police chief.

I can feel it. The lecture is coming. I can feel it, like I can feel the sweat falling into my eyes.

That's why instead of watching where I'm walking, I'm rubbing at my eyes, and why I'm tripping over, none other than all-around Mr. Popular, school president, star athlete, hypnotically beautiful, Edward Cullen. I fall like the star football player himself has just tackled me.

Not attractive at all.

"I-I—I'm so—so sorry, Edward." _Great, I can't even apologize to the guy without stuttering._

"You can see me?" He asks, but I don't hear it. Sure, I see his lips moving, but I'm not listening. I'm too distracted by his eyes, hoping that I'm not drooling on his shoes that probably cost more than my beat-up truck.

"What?" I ask distractedly. _How rude do I look not paying attention to what Edward Cullen is saying?_

"You can see me?" He looks perplexed and still with his eyebrows furrowed, he looks nothing short of godly.

"Um, yeah. Why wouldn't I?" _Now, I'm the one that's confused._

"You haven't been to the auditorium, yet." It's not a question; it's as if he's talking to himself, nodding his head, figuring things out, but I can't help but answer him.

"No, I'm late. And I'm getting later by the second," I reply snidely.

"You really don't know." His voice breaks at the end of the statement. I can't help feeling guilty for not knowing what he's talking about.

"What are you talking about?" _Why is he being so cryptic?_ I'd heard Edward was kind of secretive.

"This." It's all he says as he hands me a pocket sized memorial card, the kind they hand out at funerals. It has his picture on it.

"You're—" I don't get to finish my sentence because he does.

"Dead."

That's how Monday morning begins.


	2. Chapter One: The Quiet Things

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter One:**

**The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows**

* * *

As if all Monday's didn't already suck, I can apparently see ghosts now. Well, one ghost at least.

I knew coming in today was a bad idea. Something told me today was gonna be odd.

For starters, I had woken up early today, earlier than my alarm clock. I've had the stupid clock for years. I'm surprised it's still in one piece.

That should've been my first clue.

I'm _never_ up before the alarm clock, let alone when it rings the first time. The snooze button and I are the best of friends.

If it hadn't of been for the fact that my truck, that piece of crap, didn't want to start for about twenty minutes, I'd have been to school on time. I love the thing. Everything about it: the sexy red, chipping paint mixed with the rust on the hood, the fact that it doesn't go past fifty, the metal spring poking my left thigh every day, I truly do love it. One day it's gonna die on me, and I'll probably cry like the loser I am.

My second clue should've been the missing silver Volvo in the far right corner of the parking lot. It stood out so much amongst all the cars in the parking lot; it was hard to miss. It was so clean that it sparkled in the sun. It was also by far the nicest car in the lot compared to the onslaught of pickup trucks and station wagons.

The fact that it was missing should've triggered some warning for what kind of day I was about to have. Edward Cullen, or any of the Cullens for that fact, were never absent. They had a hundred-percent attendance since elementary school.

The biggest clue, should've been tripping over Edward Cullen, himself. The fact that Edward Cullen, the epitome of the perfect student, was in the hallway at eight-thirty should have been a _huge_ clue. It should've smacked me right in the face. Yet it didn't because I was too focused on the fact that I had touched him, albeit, tripped over him.

So, that leaves me here, in a hallway, with a ghost. Oh, and it's only Monday morning.

"You're dead?" _Yeah, I asked. Even though he just said he was dead, I asked. I'm an idiot._

"Yes." It's a short, curt answer. He obviously doesn't want to talk about the matter, or maybe he's just annoyed at having to repeat himself.

"I know this may be stupid to ask, but do you remember what happened?" _What am I doing? I'm talking to a ghost. A ghost for crying out loud! Instead of comforting him, I'm asking him to relive how he ended up dead in the first place. I'm an idiot._

"I wish I knew," he whispers. It's barely audible, but I still hear him.

I feel a twinge in my chest the moment he speaks. An immediate feeling of sadness overcomes me. I don't know if ghosts can cry, hell, I don't even know if ghosts are real, and now I am about to watch one cry.

I apologize immediately.

"You don't have to apologize, Isabella."

I'm sure I'm gaping now, mouth hanging open like a fish pulled out of water. I didn't even know Edward Cullen knew I existed, let alone knew my name.

"Are you okay?" _Good job, Bella. There's a ghost who doesn't even know how he died asking _you _if _you're _okay. There's something seriously wrong with this picture._

"Ye—yeah. I didn't know you knew my name. It took me by surprise, is all." _Loser. That's what he's probably thinking._

"Isabella, we've gone to school together since we were seven, but perhaps I should be calling you Bella, right? That's what your friends call you."

"Yeah, Angela calls me Bella."

He staring at me, and I don't know why. There's nothing much to see. I'm nothing special, thick brown wavy hair and equally dark eyes, but he, he was practically perfection, even dead. He has this weird bronze colored hair, these beautiful green eyes, like jade, and a face that looked as if it was carved from stone. Standing next to him could make even the most beautiful of women feel inferior.

"Just Angela?" _Way to show Edward Cullen that you're a loser._

"Yeah, everyone else calls me Isabella." _L-O-S-E-R!_

"Well, _Bella_, I don't know why you can see me and talk to me. You can even touch me, but maybe you're supposed to help me figure out why I'm dead."

I'm pretty sure I'm blankly staring at him for a few minutes. Yep, I am, cause there's his hand waving in my face.

"Bella? Bella?"

I quickly pull myself out of the Edward-induced trance. Honestly, you'd be reacting the same way if the most gorgeous guy you'd ever seen, suddenly died over the weekend, and then showed up as a ghost. To top it all off, you can see him, and he tells you that you're supposed to figure out how he ended up dead in the first place. _You'd _be laughing just as hard.

"Why are you laughing?" He asks sternly.

"I'—I'm sorry, it's just that—take a second to look at the situation. It's pretty damn funny. It's like some crazy messed up version of the Ghostbusters."

"So does that make you Dan Akryod?" He asks, smiling.

"No, Bill Murray."

He begins to laugh. He has a rich laugh, but there's an innocent charm to it. Even his laugh is beautiful. Some people get everything.

"A girl who knows her eighties movies, I like that. Ghostbusters was one of my favorite movies as a kid."

"Me too." I'm smiling a little too widely, probably, but what do you expect when you find out you share the same taste in cheesy movies as Edward Cullen.

"Well, Bella, there has to be a reason as to why you can see me. We're just going to have to figure it out."

"So, can you just appear and disappear? Sorry if that's stupid to ask." _Again, with the dumb questions. What is wrong with me? It doesn't help when he smiles like he is right now, that perfect, crooked smile. Damn you, Edward Cullen._

"It's not a stupid question, and yeah, I can. It's the first thing I discovered I could do when I suddenly appeared like this."

He moves his hands around himself, pointing out what he means by _this_. There's an eerie glow around him, like a faint blue light that's outlining his body. That too should've been a clue.

"Is there anything else you can do?" I ask, curious as to the abilities that a ghost could have, not taking in the bigger picture that Edward was actually a ghost, a real living, well, not so much living, ghost.

"I don't know. I've only been dead for about forty-eight hours. I'll have to find out if I can do anything else. However, I do know that I can apparently talk to you and touch you. Sorry about before. I didn't mean to trip you. It's just that I didn't know that anyone could trip over me."

"It's okay. I'm use to my face meeting the floor."

There he is again, staring at me with this strange look. I don't know how to describe it. It's kind of a mix of sorrow and wonder. Great, Edward Cullen pities me. Let's add that to the suckfest that is Monday.

We stand there staring silently at each other. None of us knows what to say, but what do you talk about when the other person is dead? Hell, what do you say to someone you never talked to before?

"So," I start, but I can't finish because people begin to run out of the auditorium.

"I guess the memorial is over."

Again, I feel a twinge in my chest. There's such a sadness in Edward's voice, but could you blame him. He was destined for incredible things. He was by far the best athlete in the school and at the top of our class academically. To have that all taken away in the blink of an eye, I don't think I'd be as composed as he is.

"Bella, why are you staring at the wall?" Angela asks, and just as I'm about to tell her, well gloat, that I'm talking to Edward Cullen, he reminds me that no one can see him.

"Um—I never noticed how nice it was before." _What did I just say?_ Apparently, it was funny to Edward because he can't stop laughing.

"Bella, the wall is white. There's nothing special about it. You're so weird." She chuckles.

"You're just realizing that, Ang. How can I call you my best friend, when you don't know how truly weird I am?" _I mean I can see ghosts. I guess that makes me a freak, now._

"Oh shut up. So, did you make it in time for Edward Cullen's memorial?"

I'm about to say no, because I hadn't, but then I feel Edward nudge my left pocket. I draw the memorial card out of my pocket to show Angela.

"Can you believe it? Edward Cullen, of all people. He was destined for greatness."

I'm sure if Angela could see Edward she wouldn't have said that, even though we both knew it was true. Edward just walks alongside me, semi-stunned by what Angela has just said.

"It's tragic. He was going to make it out of this town. I could see him at our twentieth high school reunion. He'd have salt and pepper hair, but he'd still be so damn good looking."

And I'm more than sure she would have never said that if she knew Edward was standing next to me. I'm blushing enough for the two of us, and I know Edward can see it because he has a tight lipped smile on his face.

I'm about to say something along the same lines to ensure Angela that I was paying attention, though I was only catching a few words here and there, but Edward startles me by grabbing onto my arm and pulling me away from Angela. It probably looked extremely awkward to anyone who watching.

"What the hell?" Angela and I both ask, and then I see the boxes on the floor.

"I think you've already had you're meeting with the floor today," Edward explains, sincerely.

"Thanks."

"Thanks? What the hell was that?" Angela asks, confused by the whole thing.

"Sorry, I was thinking. I guessed I leaned to the right?"

"Jeeze, Bella. It's only Monday, and you're already losing it."

"Oh crap, it's Monday. That means we have a quiz in history."_ I didn't read. I'm gonna fail._

"You didn't read the chapter, did you? What's wrong with you, Bella?"

I turn to Edward and then back to Angela.

"More than you could ever imagine, Ang, more than you could ever imagine."


	3. Chapter Two: What’s it feel like

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial style, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Two:**

**What's it feel like to be a ghost?**

* * *

"The answer is B."

"What?" I ask Edward, as I struggle through my history quiz.

"The answer. It's B. The storming of Normandy took place in _June_ of 1944," he explains nonchalantly as if it were common knowledge.

I turn to stare at him sitting on top of the empty desk behind mine. He's pulled the desk up close to mine.

He's reading the next question out loud, and for a moment, I forget where I am because all I can focus on is how close he is to me. He's so close. _So close._

I want to tell him to keep his voice down, but then I'm reminded by the eerie glow around him that no one can see him.

"You know, Edward," I whisper, "this is technically considered cheating." He just smiles, and my heart swells. Even dead, that smile is intoxicating; the way his smile reaches his eyes, the complete sincerity behind it, it's mesmerizing. He raises his eyebrow as he whispers in my ear.

"Technically?"

I shiver. His breath is ice cold against my skin, and oddly enough, the sensation is inexplicably soothing.

"Well, yeah, does it count if the person helping you is dead?" I cringe. _What the hell was that, Bella? Why would you say that? Now look, he's contemplating how to kill you._

"Good point. The answer to the next one is A."

Playful. That was the best way to describe his tone of voice. _Okay, so that didn't offend him. Thank God._

"Thank you."

"Isabella! Please stop talking. I don't want to give you a zero." _Ugh, I hate you. My name is Bella! How many times do I have to tell you that, you imbecile?_

"Sorry Mr. Lewis."

"Yes, _Isabella_, please stop talking before people think you're insane. Remember? They can't see me. It looks as if you've been hissing at your shoulder this entire time." Edward chuckles and leans in even closer.

He's so close now that his cheek is practically touching mine. The whole situation makes me blush, and I feel my entire body flush with heat.

"You know," he whispers, "you blush a lot."

I gulp loudly. How exactly does one respond to that without making themselves look even more ridiculous?

"I'm just pale, and it's unbearably hot in here." I thought that would suffice as a good answer because we were sitting by the radiators.

"It's not hot at all, Bella." Great, I'm sure I'm even redder now. _Does he have to embarrass me so many times?_

"Yeah, well you're dead. I'm sure the dead can't feel heat."

My eyes widen. I'm more than positive that I look like a deer caught in the headlights, but Edward doesn't seem to be upset by what I've said. He just leans even closer and touches his cheek against mine. It feels like someone is holding a piece of ice to my face.

"I can feel how warm you are," he says. His eyes flutter close, almost as if he's reveling in the now foreign feeling.

I let out a deep breath as I focus back on my quiz instead of Edward.

I peer over my shoulder and find him staring out the window with a blank expression. I can't tell if he's upset or content. Whenever I look back, he smiles.

We don't speak again until class lets out.

"I never realized how long forty-five minutes were until I sat there doing nothing."

"Yeah, I feel like that in every class, even while doing something," I answer back. Edward laughs as we walk to my locker. Surprisingly, he leads the way.

"You know where my locker is?" I ask, because honestly even I forget where the thing is half the time.

"Of course. Your locker is right across from my sister's."

"I never noticed her locker was across from mine." _Lie._ I know Alice's locker is across from mine. There is constantly a crowd of people buzzing around her.

Edward smirks and his eyes crinkle in the corners. "You're lying."

"What?" _How did he know?_

"You looked to the right," he smugly explains. Apparently, it was that obvious. Here I thought, that I was a pretty decent liar. I mean it's not a admirable quality to have, but I thought I was pretty decent at it.

"So, that doesn't mean I was lying. Maybe I just saw something interesting on that side of the hallway."

"You did it again," Edward proudly points out.

"Yeah, to prove my point." _Way to argue that one, Bella. You sound like a five-year old._

"And you just did it again."

"Okay, so I may have noticed Alice's locker." _All the time. How could I not?_

"You see this time you looked straight at me when you said that."

"How did you know I was lying?" _Yeah, I mean people don't always look to the right when they lie, smarty pants. Smarty Pants? My inner monologue has resorted to a five-year old's method of arguing. Now, I'm gonna tell him to stop playing with my Barbie. _

"You've never been a very good liar."

"Wait, what? I'm not a good liar? How can you say that? You don't even know me."

"I'm observant. Plus, we've gone to the same school since we were kids."

"That doesn't mean you know me. Just because you're observant, doesn't mean you've ever seen me lie to anyone."_ Try to argue your way through that one, Edward._

"I watched you lie for Angela, so she wouldn't get in trouble," he replies matter-of-factly.

"When?"

"The red paint on the hallway bulletin board. How Mrs. Crew believed that you had been the one to do it, when Angela clearly had red paint on her shirt, still amazes me to this day."

"You remember that? We were like ten." I can't believe he remembers that. I didn't know that anyone knew that Angela was the culprit.

"I thought it was very noble of you to help her out."

"Noble? I just didn't want her to get in trouble. She was coming over for a slumber party that weekend. My intentions were purely selfish."_ I had so much fun that weekend._

"You still took the heat for it and didn't get to go on the trip to the museum. Though your intentions were selfish, it was still noble."

I just nod my head as I rummage around my locker for my notebook for my next class. Great, now Edward can see how much of a disaster my locker is. I'm sure his was immaculate.

"Bella, this is going to come off as a bit crazy, but would you mind leaving school for the rest of the day?" Edward Cullen, model student, wants me to ditch school.

"What? Why?"

"You don't have to; it's just that, people are starting to stare at you. It looks like you've been talking to your locker for the last five minutes."

"So, people always stare and laugh at me."

"That's not true." It almost sounds like a question, as if he's asking if it's true or not.

Oh really, Mr. Perfect.

"Watch this."

Tyler Crowley walks by and like he always does, he looks my way, glares, and continues walking.

"See?" Thank you, Tyler.

"What the hell was that all about it? I never knew Tyler was so, so cruel."

"Cruel? That's not cruel. That's just teenage angst."

"Still, what gives him the right to make you feel that way? Or anyone for the matter?"

"My dad's the police chief, they're all afraid I'm gonna go spilling their dirty little secrets, especially after what happened at Jessica's party two years ago. You know the one where the cops showed up. Everyone thought I called them."

"But you weren't even there."

"Yeah, well, people don't always look at the whole picture sometimes."

"People are ridiculous."

"Yeah, well, I just ignore it."

I shrug my shoulders as I close my locker and begin to walk off toward my next class, but Edward stops me.

"Can we please leave?" he asks, begging me with his eyes, those beautiful green eyes that I'm sure have gotten him everything he's ever wanted.

"We can talk during lunch."

"But there are so many people in the lunch room. I want to be able to talk to you freely without people thinking you're talking to yourself."

"Trust me, they won't see."

**-X-**

The next two hours feel like pure torture. It feels like time is deliberately stilled just to annoy me. For a moment during Calculus, when I looked up at the clock above Mrs. Morris' head, I thought that the minute hand had turned backwards. I honestly thought that instead of moving to the four it moved to the three.

When the bell rings, I swear I hear my classmates cheer. Well, not cheer, but there are a few "thank gods."

Edward opted to wander for a bit, so he wouldn't disturb me in class. I wish he would've stayed; it would have made class bearable.

I find him leaning against my locker. When I get to him, he waves at me and out of pure habit, I turn around to see whom he's waving at.

"Who are you looking for, Bella?"

"I thought you were waving at someone else."

"Oh, because there are _other_ people who can see me."

For a moment, I think he's being malicious, but when he begins to laugh, I realize he's just having some fun.

"What did you do while I was in class?"

"Just walked around, listened in on other's conversations, and tried to see if I could do any other thing, you know besides appearing out of thin air."

"Interesting. Well, let's get to the cafeteria, I'm starving." I pull my lunch out of my locker and head toward the stair case. I don't notice Edward anywhere, but I find him at the bottom of the stair case waiting for me, already holding the door open.

"I have to get used to this whole having a frie-, I mean, knowing a ghost." Crap, why did I call him my friend, well almost called him. He's not my friend. I just happen to be the only person who can see him. He's pretty much stuck with me.

"Why did you change what you were going to say?"

"What?" That's right, Bella. Play dumb, so you won't have to embarrass yourself in front of him. He obviously caught were you were gonna say.

"You were going to call me your friend, but then you stopped."

"Well, we're not really friends, Edward. Never were. The only reason we're speaking now is because I'm the only person who can speak to you." You know I'm right, just admit it.

"That's not true. I mean, yeah, you're the _only_ person I can talk to, but I can ignore you if I wanted. To be completely honest, I've always wanted to talk to you. I was glad that you able to see me. It gave me a reason to stop being a chicken and talk to you."

I'm flabbergasted. He actually wanted to talk to me. Why would anyone want to do that?

"Why would you want to talk to me? As you can see, I'm pretty boring."

I don't get an answer because Mike Newton walks through the door and right through Edward. The eerie glow that surrounds him, suddenly disappears, and forms around Mike. When Mike looks at me, it's Edward's eyes staring straight through me.

As Mike's body climbs the stairs, I can hear Edward struggling; he's groaning loudly as if he's fighting with Mike. The groaning gets louder the further Mike's body climbs. Edward nearly falls down the stairs separating himself from Mike.

"That was so weird."

"I know. I was staring at Mike, but he had your eyes, and when "Mike" was groaning, I heard his voice, but yours as well."

We're silent. Edward's trying to compose himself; he's visibly shaken by the whole ordeal.

"Are you okay, Edward?"

"Yeah, that was so, I don't even know the right word to use. I was Mike. I heard all his thoughts, felt everything he did, but I was still me."

"I guess that's something else you can do. That's pretty cool." It is, but I don't think it was too fun for him. He still looks dazed.

"Yeah, it was pretty cool. I got to hear what he was thinking."

"That might not always be a good thing. You might find out things you don't want to know."

"True. We should head over to the cafeteria before the period is over and you didn't each your lunch."

He holds the door open again.

"He's so wrong."

"What?" Who's wrong? What the hell is he getting at?

"Just something Mike was thinking."

"What?" What the hell was Mike thinking? Why are you being so cryptic? Must you always be so cryptic? This is going to get annoying.

"He thinks you're crazy. He's clearly wrong; you're a freak obviously ." He chuckles, loudly.

"Thanks." Great, even the ghost thinks I'm a freak. Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black, in a sense?"

"I mean that in the best possible way. Frankly, I don't think you know anyone else who can communicate with a ghost. If you do, please let me know, I could throw a party."

"I guess you're right." I laugh. It's not like I wasn't thinking it before him anyway.

"Plus, he said you were pretty." He looks displeased by that. What am I not pretty? There goes my already waning self-esteem.

"Yeah, I guess he really is wrong on that."

"Exactly! You're not pretty, you're exquisite." Did Edward Cullen just call me exquisite? Wait, he looked to the right.

"You're lying. You looked to the right."

"I'm not," he defends, leaning in close to whisper in my ear.

"I look up when I'm lying."


	4. Chapter Three: Understanding In A

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial style, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Three****:**

**Understanding In A Car Crash**

* * *

Walking into the lunch room, I still can't get over what happened in the stair case. _Had Edward truly called me exquisite? Who even says "exquisite?" Can you even call someone exquisite? And what the hell? He can posses someone for a while, and Mike thinks I'm pretty. God, today just gets weirder and weirder._

"Hey, where do you sit?" Edward interrupts my thoughts, his eyes scanning the cafeteria. He spots _his_ table, where he and his group of friends and family always sit. Today the only people there are some of his teammates and some cheerleaders, one being his girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend now, Victoria. She seems to be okay with Edward's death. She's smiling and laughing with James's arm around her shoulders. I can see that Edward's noticed the same thing. His face contorts into a frown and his eyebrows furrow.

"Didn't take her long to get over me?" he murmurs.

I don't say anything. I just pull my lips tight into something between a smile and a grimace. I just didn't want to say something that would hurt him even more. I continue walking to the lone table in the corner of the cafeteria and sit like I always do, with my back to the student body.

"This is where you sit? All alone?"

"Yep," I answer him and take a bite out of my sandwich. Usually I would be reading, but I know Edward wants to talk.

"Why?" He's genuinely interested.

"Because, Angela doesn't have this lunch period."

"Sit with someone else." _Real easy for you to say, Edward. Everyone still loves you._

"I am. You." _How 'bout them apples?_

"I don't count. I'm not even here, remember?" His eyes are still focused on his table as he's talking to me. He keeps trying to look over my shoulder. I feel sorry for him. He looks so dejected.

"Are you okay?" I ask. He looks so glum. He immediately takes his focus off the table.

"Yeah, I just didn't realize that my friends would so easily forget about me. I know it sounds kind of selfish to want them to be grieving, but you know, I wish they would at least show some sign of caring."

"I doubt they've forgotten."

"She sure has." He doesn't even have to say Victoria for me to understand who and what he's talking about. We had both seen her laughing with James's arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Everyone grieves differently, Edward." I try to reassure him. _I'm sure it doesn't involve possibly hooking up with one of your friends, but who knows._

"I suppose so."

"Well, you can always, you know, posses them to find out."

"Posses?" _Damn, that awful smirk._ He wants to laugh.

"Yeah, you know, like with Mike? You sort of possessed him."

"True, but can we not call it that. It makes me feel evil, like some villain in a cheesy horror movie."

"Or you can be like Casper?" He laughs_. I liked Casper_.

"Casper? Well, that's better than some exorcist thing."

"Maybe that's how I can get rid of you. I can call a priest and exorcise you."

"You want to get rid of me?" _Good job, Bella. You went and hurt his feelings, but why would he care if I don't want him around. I mean he's not bothering me. I like having him around. Who am I kidding? I _love_ having him around_.

"Not at all. I just thought you would rather be wherever it is you're supposed to be."

"No, I'm good, right here, hanging out with you. I told you I always wanted to talk to you. I was just afraid to."

"Yeah, you said that before, but you never told me why."

"Honestly, I always thought you were so much better than this place. I'm so sorry to bring this up if it offends you but you were so strong after your mother died. I admired that. I kept thinking how unbelievable it was. You're dad was a total wreck, and instead of him being there to comfort you, it was the other way around. I really respected that."

_He respected me? I've never had anyone tell me that._

"Thanks."

"No problem. So please, stop thinking that I don't want to be here… with you."

"Okay, I can try, but no promises."

"Trying counts."

We laugh because it seems so silly.

"Posses? Really? I can't believe you said I possessed Mike. It's not as if I wanted to; he'd be the last person I'd want to posses."

"I know, but I couldn't think of another word."

We laugh and wait for the bell to ring. I have two more classes and then I'm free to go. Then I can go home and research this "phenomenon" as Edward addressed it before the end of the period. Even after everything at the beginning of the period, I catch him peaking over my shoulder. The one time I turn to look at the table, it's kind of unsettling. I can see why Edward feels the way he does, but before I can say anything, the bell sounds and Edward's already waiting by the door for me.

_I seriously have to get used to that._

**-X-**

The rest of the day passes by much quicker than the first half, and I'm more than grateful because all I want to do is go home.

I spot Edward by my locker when my last class lets out.

"Hey, how was class?" he asks as I take the only book I'll need for homework tonight. I'm so glad I only have to read two chapters of _Great Expectations_.

"Boring as usual."

"Well, so what now?" he nervously asks. He has his hand in his pockets, he's rocking on the balls of his feet, and he's biting his lip.

"I don't know." I answer, honestly. _I can't just ask him over, can I?_

We stand in front of my locker, saying noting as we both try to figure out what to do. I finally pluck up the courage to ask him over my house.

"You can come over to my place. We can look some stuff up on the internet."

"Sounds great. I was hoping you would ask. I didn't want to assume that I was just going to come over uninvited."

"Geeze, Edward, no need to ask. I mean you could have just popped over there and been waiting on my bed by now." I immediately regret saying my bed. _There's that god awful smirk._

"Your bed, huh?" _Why must he always be smirking?_

"That's not what I meant, but whatever. Are you coming or not?"

"Yep, lead the way."

Edward holds the door open for me, and I quickly glance around to make sure no one's noticed the phantom door opening by itself. I remind him that he can't just go opening doors because people can't see him. They'll think something odd is going on in Forks.

"There is," he responds. "There's a ghost roaming the halls." I laugh as I head toward my truck.

Edward stops abruptly by the passenger side door. His eyes are surveying the car.

"This is your truck? This is what you drive?" He sounds condescending as he walks around the car, kicking the wheels slightly. _Don't kick my car, Cullen_.

"Yes. Is there a problem, Edward?" I sound annoyed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it, Bella. I just don't think you're very safe in this thing."

"Well, that's too bad because this is what I drive. So are you getting in or what?" Ugh, now he's annoying me. _Don't make fun of my car. I know it's a piece of crap, but only I'm allowed to make fun of it._

He gets in when I do except he just appears on the passenger side. I seriously have to get used to that.

I put my seatbelt on and start the car. It roars to life, loudly. Edward just chuckles and waits for me to take off. I want to tell him to put a seatbelt on, but I'm sure he doesn't need one. _Yeah, because he's dead. How stupid would I have sounded? Hey Edward, safety first._

The car bounces a lot as I drive. I can feel every pothole in the street.

As I drive, I can feel Edward staring at me, so I turned to him and ask him what.

"Nothing, it's just, can't you go any faster than fifty?"

"Nope. Fifty's the fastest it goes." _Laugh it up. I'd throw you out of the truck if I could._

"Seriously? I thought you were just being Chief Swan's kid and obeying the speed limit. It really doesn't go faster than fifty?"

"Nope, it's old. I should get a new car, but I don't have the money. I don't have the heart to give it up."

"It's a piece of cra-," he starts but doesn't finish because I stop the car suddenly in front of my house.

"Don't call my car a piece of crap. Only I can call it that. Got it?"

"Yes, but if I wasn't dead, I would fear for my life in that thing."

I stare at him and laugh. I've never laughed so hard before. I can feel tears at the corner of my eyes as I rest my head against the steering wheel. He laughs along with me.

"Let's get inside before people think I've gone insane."

"Lead the way, Bella." He gestures toward the door, but of course, he's already waiting at the door, even before I've taken my seatbelt off.

**-X-**

**_Many people have seen or interacted with ghosts or non-physical beings without ever even being aware that this was what was happening. Supernatural experiences don't necessarily come with big neon signs on them; they're best recognized by the telltale feeling that something unusual or important is happening. We often shrug off those experiences that are strange and unexplainable, even really astounding ones, because most of us just don't have a model for incorporating anomalous experiences into our belief systems. What is magical to some is seen as merely coincidental to others._**

"That doesn't answer my question. Why the hell am I here?"

We've been researching for hours and we still haven't found an inkling of any legitimate reason as to why Edward is a ghost. I can tell he's getting frustrated. He keeps pinching the bridge of his nose and pacing back and forth as we wait for the web pages to load.

"What about this?"

**_Crossing ghosts over is a phenomenon that many people practice, though many believe it's false and may be a sign of early on-set schizophrenia. A reason ghosts hang around is due to a common phenomena called, unfinished business. Many ghosts are still around because they weren't supposed to die yet. They still have things to accomplish. It's the job of a "mediator" to help them cross over to the other side, by helping them complete their unfinished business. In some cases, that's not the problem. The problem is to solve a mystery surrounding the person's death. Perhaps they weren't meant to die, but it's the mediator's job to solve it._**

"So, it's your job to solve why I died?" Edward has stopped pacing, and he's now crouching by me, re-reading the passage I just read.

"You weren't supposed to die, Edward. We have to figure out why you did."

"This is like some twisted Nancy Drew novel."

"Does that make me Nancy Drew? I liked those books when I was younger."

"Why did I die?" he asks, ignoring what I just said. He's staring at me, so much emotion passing through his face.

"I don't know, Edward, but I'm going to find out, even if it kills me." He grabs my shoulder tightly and shakes me as he levels his face with mine.

"What?" I ask.

"Don't say that. I don't want you to get hurt because you're trying to figure out what happened. Do you hear me? Please don't do anything stupid."

"It just a figure of expression. No need to worry."

"Bella!"

My head snaps toward the door. Charlie's home and I totally forgot to make dinner. _Crap, he's gonna think something's wrong._

"Bella, are you home?" he calls out again.

"Yeah, dad, I'll be right down." I shout out my bedroom door.

"I have to go make dinner. I forgot to do it before. You know you can come down. It's not like as if he can see you."

"Okay. I've never really met your dad."

"And you're not." I jest.

"Funny." He chuckles as he decides to walk with me down the stairs.

"Bella, honey, how was your day?"

"Same as always dad, except for the memorial for Edward Cullen."

"Oh, right. I still can't believe it. He was such a great kid. I saw his father today. He's devastated. I completely understand. Losing someone is difficult but losing your child, that is inconceivable. I can't even imagine what he's going through."

"I know, Dad. The good ones always die young." I smile and look for Edward, but he's nowhere to be seen.

"I hope not. I don't plan on losing you anytime soon."

"Dad. You know nothing's gonna happen to me."

"The world is a bad place, Bella. Just be careful."

"I know, Dad. Oh, I forgot to make dinner. I was busy with researching… for a project. Why don't you go shower? I'll order some pizza."

"Sounds good, kiddo." Charlie gets up and heads upstairs to take a shower. I hear his heavy footsteps hitting each step, especially the second to last step upstairs. There's a crack in it, so anytime someone steps on it, a loud sound resonates through the house. I make my way toward the phone in the living room wondering where Edward disappeared off to.

"He loves you," he says, appearing out of thin air, starling me. I, of course, fall. _Must I always eat the floor?_

"Don't do that." He helps me get up and apologizes.

"Sorry."

"Where did you go?"

"Um–" He's looking away from me, up the stairs.

"You _possessed_ my dad, didn't you?"

"Sort of. And stop saying possessed. I thought we agreed on _spirited_."

"Yeah, okay. Why would you do that?" _Why would he want to know what my dad was thinking? Probably thinking about a game or fishing._

"Well, I wanted to know what he was thinking. He looked pensive when he was talking to you. I guess I got curious."

"You got curious? This is my dad. Please refrain from ever _spiriting_ him again." I know Charlie, and I aren't all that close, but still, I don't want to know what he's thinking, nor do I want Edward to know.

"Okay, but you know, he really loves you. He's seriously worried about you."

_Worried about me? Why would Charlie be worried about me?_

"You're pretty much all he thinks about. He knows you cry yourself to sleep. Oh, and he wishes you would stop blaming yourself. I don't know what that means."

"Don't worry about it." _Please don't ask._

"It has to do with your mom, doesn't it? The crying?"

"I said, don't worry about it." _I don't want to talk about it. What aren't you getting?_

"Bella?" He steps closer and places the palms of his hands on my cheeks. For a moment, I get lost in the ice-cold feeling it provides.

"I don't want to talk about it." Curtly, I walk away after telling the pizza guy what kind of pizza I want.

"Okay."

"Oh, I didn't even ask all day. Are you hungry? Can you get hungry?"

"No. I feel fine. I don't think I can eat."

I turn around and bump into Edward. He quickly catches me and steadies my balance.

"Ouch. You feel like stone. What did I tell you about sneaking up on me? It's kind of creepy." He feels so hard to the touch, like granite almost.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Wait a minute."

"What?" he asks, concerned.

"Relax, it's nothing bad. I just realized you can't _spirit_ me. You can do it to Mike and my dad, and probably every one, but not me." _Thank God, because then he'd know how badly I want to kiss him._

"Yeah, I was thinking about that before. Maybe it's because you're a… what did that article call it?"

"Mediator." _God, I really am a freak._

"Yeah, that. Perhaps, I can't _spirit_ mediators."

"Maybe."

The door bell shrills loudly. _God, I hate that thing._

Charlie walks and answers the door and pays the delivery man. He carries the pizza into the kitchen. I've already pulled out two plates.

"Bella, do you mind if I eat this in the living room. There's game on soon."

"Don't worry about it, Dad. I'm going upstairs anyway to, to, to finish up my homework." _Edward is right. I honestly can't lie._

"Alright, well if you happen to fall asleep before the game is over, goodnight honey."

"Night, Dad."

I grab a slice and head upstairs. Edward's already in my room looking at the pictures I have tacked up on a corkboard. He spots the one of my mother and me, on my eight birthday. She looks so happy. I look miserable. I didn't want to wear the dress she made me. I was so intent on wearing my pajamas to my party.

"Is this your mom?" he asks as he gently touches the photo.

"Yeah."

"I know, you said you didn't want to talk about it, but what happened?"

I sit down on my bed and prepare myself. Edward sits right in front of me. It drains me every time I talk about my mom. It's been almost five years since she was killed and not a day goes by that I don't think about her. She was my best friend, and she was taken from me in the blink of an eye. I miss her so much.

"I was twelve. I had been begging my mom all day to go get some ice cream. I whined and threw a tantrum any time she said no. Needless to say, she finally got fed up and took me to get some. We never made it."

"What happened?" I'm shaking by now, and tears are already starting to slip down my face. My voice is starting to waver. It doesn't seem to bother Edward. He just gets up from his chair and sits beside me.

"As we were turning the corner to get onto the highway, we were hit head on by a delivery truck. My mom died instantly; the whiplash from the hit snapped her neck. I came out with just a few cuts and bruises, and a broken hand."

I'm crying, sniffling every two seconds. Edward doesn't speak.

"I remember being pulled out of the car and the paramedics pulling my mom out and not doing anything. They checked her pulse and immediately covered her in a white blanket. I knew as soon as they did that she was dead. It was my fault. If I hadn't of acted like a brat and begged her to take me to get ice cream, she would still be here. Sometimes I wish it had been the both of us, or just me."

I'm sobbing into Edward's chest. I feel safe in his arms, comforted.

"Don't ever say that, Bella, and don't ever blame yourself. Things happen for a reason. I know that's not what you want to hear, but believe me, your mother wouldn't change it, and she sure as hell wouldn't have wanted it to be you. Think about Charlie? Imagine if it had been the two of you? It would've killed him. He loves you so much, Bella. You're his entire world."

"I know. I can't help blaming myself. Think about it carefully."

"It's not your fault. You weren't the one driving the delivery truck."

"I might as well have been."

"No, Bella. It's not your fault." He grabs my face in both his hands. Again, I get lost in the cold feeling. It's soothing with how hot my face feels. "Do you understand? It's not your fault."

I nod my head and say nothing. Edward doesn't say anything either. He holds me, and I fall asleep.

For the first time in five years, I sleep through the entire night.


	5. Chapter Four: Stop the Car

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**** THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES QUOTES FROM CHAPTER THREE OF _TWILIGHT_. **

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Four****:**

**Stop the Car**

* * *

I hate waking up. No, I despise waking up. It just means that I have to leave this cozy little cocoon my sheets have created. So warm. So deliciously warm.

Wait, how the hell did I get here?

"Good morning."

I scream, of course I do. I didn't realize that Edward was in my bedroom. I don't even know if he ever left during the night.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he apologizes as he walks over, holding a glass of water.

"Well, you failed," I screech. "Thank you for the water." Man, how did he know I was thirsty? I've got the worst case of cotton mouth, ever. Oh god, I probably have the worst case of morning breath. Stay exactly where you are, Edward. It's for your own good.

"You're welcome. How did you sleep?" he asks as he sits down opposite me on the bed. I shiver. I immediately feel the cold nature of his presence, but I'm sure that's not the only reason why. Do all ghosts smell this good?

"Good. Really good. I've haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time. Thanks."

"What did I do?"

"For starters, you didn't run away when I started crying." I'm sure I looked terrible. I would've ran away from me. I hate when people cry. I can't deal with it; I never know what to say.

"Bella, I'd never do that. Everyone needs to be able to let go. I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me."

"Yeah, still, thanks. It means a lot to me. I have a question, though. I know that I fell asleep on you, sorry about that."

"No need to apologize." He smiles as he takes the cup of water from me, placing it on my nightstand.

"Okay, but how did I end up under my sheets?" Please don't say what I think you are. Please!

"I picked you up and put you under. You were shivering; I guess I'm colder than I thought." He grimaces.

"You picked me up?" I knew it. God, I probably weigh a ton, like a freaking whale. Someone shoot me.

"Yeah, with one arm, actually. I guess that something else I discovered. I'm freakishly strong. I nearly took your refrigerator door off its hinges this morning."

"But you weren't that strong yesterday. I'm sure we would've somehow noticed."

"Well, maybe it had to develop."

"So, not only are you a ghost, but now you're a superhero. Are you sure that you're actually dead? Maybe you got bit by a radioactive spider or worse, sliced with a piece of kryptonite?"

He just laughs as he gets off the bed, shaking his head in amusement, muttering superhero under his breath. His hair musses up more than it already is, and I'm tempted to move the one strand that's fallen on his forehead, back into place. Edward sits down in the rocking chair as I stretch my limbs before standing up. Sleeping in my clothes from the day before was not very comfortable.

"So, did you sleep well?" I ask.

"I didn't sleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I probably took up the entire bed."

"No, no, don't worry. I don't think I can sleep. Plus, you didn't take up the entire bed. You're kind of tiny."

"You can't sleep? That's weird." I'm tiny? I know I'm short, but I mean, his sister is tiny, almost pocket size.

"Yeah, I'm just not tired. I guess that's another thing to add to the list of things ghost can't do. Plus, I think if I could, I wouldn't have."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm a, well, was a light sleeper, and you happen to talk in your sleep."

I'm blushing. I can feel it all over my body. I try to hide my face under the comforter, but Edward leaps from the chair and pulls it off.

"Don't be embarrassed. You didn't say anything too bad. I think you were just replaying the day's events over because you said my name a couple of times and the word ghost."

He smiles as he runs his hand through his unruly hair. I can tell he's trying to cheer me up and make me forget about it, but regardless of how harmless my dream was, to have him hear me was utterly humiliating. I get out of bed, avoiding his gaze at all costs, as I collect my things to take into the bathroom.

"So, what did you do while I slept?"

"I went to check up on my family." He bows his head, and the sullen demeanor he wore yesterday reappears. I never knew someone could love their family so wholeheartedly.

"How are they?" I ask. He takes in an unnecessary breath in and begins to play with his hands as he speaks.

"I think Emmett's okay. He's always best when it comes to keeping emotions under control, but Alice," he pauses, letting his eyes close. It's as if he's watching the scene again, trying everything in his power not to cry. "She's devastated, and it's killing me. She was up all night, crying in my bed."

"I'm so sorry."

"I–I hate seeing her like that. She's my baby sister. I hate when she's hurt and knowing I'm the reason–" He doesn't finish his sentence. He just sits there shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. I don't know what to say or how to comfort him. I've never seen Edward Cullen in such a state before. Maybe he's the type who doesn't like to be comforted. It doesn't stop me from hugging him.

He's feels like a glacier, hard and cold. I can't help but relish in the feeling when he wraps his arms around me. I shiver almost immediately and he pulls away, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I forget that I feel like a block of ice."

"It's okay. I'll just start wearing thicker sweaters." He laughs, but I'm making a mental note about possibly stealing one of Charlie's old high school sweat shirts.

"I should probably let you get ready for school. I'll just wait downstairs and watch some TV. Your dad's already gone."

"Okay, I shouldn't be long."

"Oh and Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You know, everyone needs to be able to let go." He smiles and heads downstairs.

I crash down onto my bed. That smile will be the death of me.

**-X-**

I take no more than half an hour getting ready for school. I don't want to keep Edward waiting.

When I come downstairs, he's sitting in front of the television screen watching the local news. Mhm, it smells like bacon down here.

"You look engrossed."

"Hmm, not really. They've been talking about the same topics all morning, plus it's not like the weather is ever any different. Today, rain with a chance of snow. Wednesday, rain. Thursday, thunderstorms. Friday, scattered showers. Saturday, wait can it be, yes, more rain."

I'm laughing so hard. I can feel tears in the corner of my eyes. He's put on this cheesy weather man voice. It's so spot on. Who knew he was so funny?

"Ugh, stop, my stomach hurts." I'm clutching at it as my laughter dies down. Edward just sits there with that beautiful smile. Death of me, I swear.

"It's nice to see you smile. You don't do it very often."

I don't say anything. I just stand still, tight lipped as he walks pass me. An intoxicating smell pervades my ever sense. He smells incredible. I didn't know ghosts could smell so good. Wait, I didn't even know ghosts were real.

"I made you some breakfast. I wasn't exactly sure if you liked bacon and eggs but if you do."

He made me breakfast? No wonder it smelled like bacon.

"Thanks. I haven't been able to have breakfast in a long time. I'm always running late. I usually just grab an apple and chomp on it as I drive to school."

"Well, sit down. There's an hour till first period begins."

"It smells really good. I didn't know you could cook." To be honest, I don't know a lot.

"Just a hobby, but don't be fooled, smell and taste are two very different things. So, don't be afraid to tell me if it tastes awful."

"I doubt that it will taste bad. You're pretty much good at everything."

He sits down in the seat in front of me, staring at me. I look up, and I'm taken aback by his glare.

"I'm not good at everything, Bella. Trust me."

What did he mean by that? Ugh, he's always so cryptic.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it. Eat your breakfast before it gets even colder."

I take a bite of the eggs, and they're incredible. Ugh, god he is good at everything? Where did he get cheese from?

"How is it? I tried to taste it, but I nearly threw up. I guess I really can't eat."

"It's great, but where did you get the cheese? I'm pretty sure we don't have any."

"I may have borrowed some from the grocery store; being a ghost has its advantages."

"You stole cheese?"

We start to laugh because it sounds so ridiculous. Cheese? He stole cheese from the market place. When the laughter dies down, Edward cleans up the plates and tells me to get my things for school.

When we get outside, we're greeted by flurries of white flying around. There's a thin layer of snow already covering the front yard, dusting the top of my truck and the road.

"Well, I guess the weatherman wasn't lying when he said chance of snow."

"Yeah and we have to go to school in that thing you call an automobile."

"Hey, what did I tell you? Don't disrespect my truck. Besides, you can just pop over there if you really wanted to."

"Sorry, it's just I don't like the idea of you diving in this thing. It's not very safe."

"Thanks I guess. That's sweet."

As I step down the stairs, I can feel ice underneath the snow. All the rain from the night before had frozen. Great, I can't even walk on solid ground, now I have to attempt to walk on an ice rink.

Edward, of course, is already waiting by my truck. From where I'm standing, I can see that he's carefully watching every step I take. He knows how much of a klutz I am. I almost make it to the car, slip free, but a slick part of the driveway trips me up. I'm falling faster than I can blink, but strong arms catch me.

"Quota for the day?"

"Funny. Thank you for catching me. I might have bust my head open with this one."

His eye shut quickly as if he's picturing what I just said. He shakes his head as he re-opens his eyes.

"Don't say things like, Bella. I don't want to see you get hurt."

He's still holding me as he speaks. I can feel how cold he is, but at the same time all I feel is this overwhelming heat running up and down my spine. He has the most intense look in his eyes. I want to look away, but I can't. I'm falling into them. We're totally silent for those few seconds until Edward lets go.

"We, uh, should get you to school." He's walking toward the driver's seat as he asks for my keys.

"Edward? What, what are you doing? Do you know how crazy it would look if you drove?"

"Right, I forgot." He bows his head, and I again I get the urge to push that one strand of hair that always falls, away. It hard to look at him–like this. He's so beautiful, especially when he's grave. Odd, I know, but it's true.

"I'll let you drive this weekend, if you're still–"

"Here?" he whispers as he finishes my sentence.

Silence, once again surrounds us. Good going, Bella. Way to make him feel unwanted.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

"It's alright. It's funny. I kind of don't want you to figure out what happened." He looks away as we get into the car.

"Why do you say that?"

"I like hanging out with you." He smiles, and I swear he winks. I blush for the umpteenth time and start the car. It roars to life and Edward stifles a laugh as we head down the road.

"What are you smiling about?" I ask.

"I just can't believe this clunker of a car worked this morning."

"That's like the third time you make fun of my car, today. This is my baby, stop making fun of her. I love her."

"Second time!"

"Whatever. Only I can make fun of my car."

"Okay, understood, but still–"

"Shut up," I manage to say between laughing.

The rest of the ride to school is relatively quiet, but it's a comfortable silence.

When I get out of my truck at school, I finally notice the silver chains on the wheels that have made driving this morning easy. I ask Edward if he had put them on, but he tells me that Charlie had placed them on before he left for the station. I can't help but be overwhelmed by the gesture. Charlie and I aren't extremely close (we hardly speak of anything important), but the fact that he's concerned for me, makes me smile.

As I walk around the car to check on the chains, I notice that Edward is staring at his family across the parking lot. I can see Emmett with his shoulders hunched forward as he stands by the trunk of the Volvo. He smiles when his girlfriend, Rosalie, comes to hug him. He holds her close, and she rubs his arms up and down. It's beautiful.

Then there's Alice. Her eyes are red and sunken in from hours of crying. She's standing next to Emmett. Rosalie's brother, Jasper, has his arms around her. From here, I can tell he's whispering things to cheer her up. It's heart wrenching. The worst part of it all is the space they left between Emmett and Alice.

That's where Edward always stood. I can tell he's noticed because he smiles timidly.

"Go," I order.

"What?"

"Go stand where you belong."

He looks up through his eyelashes and dashes across the parking lot to stand between his siblings. The two instantly shiver. I can see Edward's hands on their shoulders, and oddly enough they seem more relaxed.

I keep staring at the group, but a sudden high-pitched screeching sound, pulls my attention away from them. In those few seconds, I see a sheer look of terror flash across everyone's faces in the parking lot. I see Tyler's familiar blue van heading straight towards me. There's nothing I can do. I'm frozen in my spot.

I see Edward disappear, and the eerie glow that circles him floating, but I don't see where it goes because the van nears, and I'm being pulled away by two pale hands. All I hear is the sound of wheels screeching across the pavement and the sound of metal crunching, two feet from where I was just standing.

I'm tumbling on the floor with this person, avoiding the accident as best we can. I've already smacked my head against the floor on their first impact with me.

All sounds cease as the van finally comes to a stop. All I can hear is the sound of my breathing and the mystery person.

Looking up I find Alice's tiny frame sprawled on top of me, holding me away from the scene of the accident, and Edward's green eyes staring straight at me.


	6. Chapter Five: Miracle

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**** THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES QUOTES FROM CHAPTER THREE OF _TWILIGHT_. ****

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Five:**

**Miracle**

* * *

"Edward, what have you done?" I say in-between deep breaths. My head's throbbing, and I can smell the familiar coppery stench of blood. It's starting to make me dizzy, and Edward can tell. It's so strange to look up at Alice and know it's Edward that I'm really staring at.

"Are you okay, Bella?" His voice resonates from Alice's tiny, pert mouth.

"I'm dizzy."

"Okay, the ambulance is coming. I can hear it." He's slowly lifting himself off me. It's such an odd sensation to be speaking to Edward, and yet all I see and feel is Alice.

"Edward, you have to separate yourself away from Alice," I harshly whisper. He seems to be ignoring that fact. I whisper, again, but still, those same green eyes stare at me, and there is so much sorrow there. That's when I finally notice what's going on.

Alice knows.

She's hugging herself tightly, and tears are streaming down her face. This is far worse than I could ever imagine.

"Edward, you have to leave her now. Everyone's starting to gather around."

As Jasper's voice nears, the sound of his sneakers hitting the pavement sound louder than anything I've ever heard. My heart starts to beat loudly. He's screaming Alice's name, asking if she's okay. Not far behind, you can hear Emmett's boisterous voice asking her what the hell she was thinking, and Rosalie just wondering if she's alive.

When Jasper finally reaches us, Edward separates himself from Alice. She falls right into Jasper's arms, sobbing. She's mumbling, but I can hear her clearly.

"Jasper, I felt him. I felt Edward. He was here." She's pointing at herself, at her heart, at her eyes, as she keeps crying. She's breathing erratically, and Jasper tries to calm her down.

"Alice, what are you saying? Calm down, okay. Can you calm down for me?"

She's starts to calm. I'm awestruck by Jasper's ability to soothe her so quickly, but soon she's crying again as Emmett jumps over the bed of my truck and picks Alice up.

"What were you thinking, Alice? You could've been killed. Are you trying to take everything away from me? I can't lose you, too. Not in the same week as Edward. Don't ever do something like that ever again, little one."

He's holding her for dear life. I'm pretty sure that if there weren't so many people around, he'd be crying. I had never seen Emmett Cullen exude so much emotion in my entire life.

"Emmett," Alice starts and turns to me. "I felt Edward. I know it sounds crazy, but it's why I ran over here. I had to save Bella."

She called me Bella. Only Angela calls me Bella. And Edward.

Emmett ignores what Alice says. He probably thinks that she's going through some sort of post-traumatic something. I can't remember the name. The health teacher had spoken about it before, but now I can't seem to remember, or care.

He turns to me and sees me still on the floor. He begins to approach me. The sounds of ambulances and police sirens are getting closer. I'm scared by the way he approaches me, but Edward smiles. He knows something I don't know.

He extends his hand out to me, and I just stare at it. I'm terrified at the moment; I nearly got his sister killed. I'm pretty sure I'm not his favorite person at the moment.

"Bella, take my hand, so I can pick you up."

He called me Bella, too. But no one here–

I can't even finish my thought as he grabs my hand and lifts me up as if I were light as a feather. I feel dizzy, and my body sways. He seems to notice because he holds onto my tightly, but it's not the only hands holding me. From behind, I can feel Edward's frigid hands, putting pressure on the bump on the back of my head, trying to soothe the shooting pains emanating from it.

"Are you okay, Bella?" Emmett asks as he holds me. I don't answer. Rosalie comes over with a scarf. I wonder what she's going to do with that.

"I think Bella might have hit her head on the pavement. Hold her back, so I can use the scarf to put pressure on the cut on her forehead."

I feel Rosalie's delicate hands push my hair back as she goes to put the scarf on the cut. The sudden movement lets me smell the blood clearly, and I become dizzy again, this time nearly falling out of Emmett's arms.

"Bella!" It's a chorus of my name: Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice, all calling my name.

"I feel queasy."

"She hit her head pretty hard when I pushed her away." Alice explains. None of them realizes it's the blood on my head that's making me unsteady.

They lay me back down on the ground, but Emmett removes his coat so I can lay on it.

"The ground is practically ice today," he reasons.

It takes six EMTs and two teachers to shift the van far enough away for them to bring stretchers in to where we're situated. Alice refuses her, but she tells them that I need one, explaining that I "smacked my head on the pavement pretty hard." I would in most circumstances be furious. No, I am furious. She sold me out. I told her to tell them I was OK. Well, it wasn't her. She was contemplating not telling, but Edward had to literally stick his nose in it.

To make matters worse, Chief Swan arrives before I'm safely in the ambulance.

"Bella!" he yells when he sees me on the stretcher.

"I'm okay, Dad." Great, now the whole school is watching me and my dad talking. As if being the chief's daughter wasn't bad enough, now they can see me talking to him.

He ignores me and asks for an EMT's opinion. I don't listen. I'm too focused on watching Jasper and Emmett prodding and staring at the dent in the door of Tyler's van. It's where Alice had pushed it away. They don't even know how to react. They stare gob smacked.

Edward just keeps staring at me, finally out of Alice for the second time. He tries to reason with me that it was best for me to go the hospital.

"You could have a concussion, Bella," he explains, but he stops when he notices the look on my face.

That's right, Edward Cullen. I am furious at the moment, and totally embarrassed! They put this ridiculous neck brace on me. I feel like a horse, like I have blinders on because I can't see to the sides. And to top it all off, the cherry on my suck sundae, the ambulance gets a police escort.

When I arrive at the hospital, they take me straight to the emergency room. It's a long room, with bright white walls, and those fluorescent lights that bother my eyes. A nurse is putting a pressure cuff on my arm and a thermometer under my tongue. She forgets to close the privacy curtain. I throw caution to the wind, and remove the uncomfortable neck brace. The sound of the Velcro disconnecting is like music to my ears, and relief to my neck.

A few moments later, a flurry of nurses scurry pass me. I see Tyler being brought in on another stretcher. He's far worse than I am. His head is wrapped in bandages, and the blood has already seeped through it. I hold my breath quickly. I don't want to smell it. He looks a hundred times worse than I feel.

As soon as his stretcher is place next to mine, he begins to apologize profusely, which is odd since he and I have never gotten along.

"I'm so sorry, Bella."

"I'm fine Tyler. How are you? You look awful."

He ignores me. "I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong, and then the brakes didn't work, and man, I'm so sorry, Bella!"

"Don't worry about it; you missed me." The lie comes so easily as I watch a nurse clean his wounds. I can tell he's trying not to show that he's in pain.

"How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there one second, and the next you were gone–" The sentence hangs in the air.

"Umm–" How the hell do I explain this? You know Alice Cullen, yeah the small pixie looking girl, yeah she pulled me away, oh but not by free will, you see, the spirit of her dead brother possessed, wait no Edward doesn't like that word, he spirited her, and pulled me and shoved your van away to save both out lives..

"Alice pulled me out of the way. She was standing right next to me."

"Alice Cullen?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know you were friends with the Cullen's." Tyler asks as he grimaces slightly when the nurse applies rubbing alcohol to one of the many cuts he's sporting.

"I'm not. She was just asking me something about homework, and then all this happened."

He grimaces and begins to apologize again. I've never seen Tyler in this light before. He's almost like a little boy apologizing to his mother for stealing a cookie before dinner.

"I didn't see her, though."

"What?" I ask. I had been pretty spaced out for a while, when Tyler began talking once more.

"Alice, I didn't see her."

"Well, she is pretty small." I joke and laugh a bit. Tyler laughs along with me and shrugs his shoulders, probably deciding that that was the reason he didn't see her.

"Well, it all happened so fast, I guess I missed her."

I nod my head and stand up from the gurney. There's a nurse informing me that I would be taken to get some X-rays of my head, to be sure nothing is wrong.

While waiting in the X-ray examination room, Edward finally decides to talk. He's just been sitting on the sidelines quiet as can be the entire time.

"Bella, are you okay? Really?"

If I'm being honest, seeing him look so concerned scares me. He had such a meaningful expression in his eyes, something I'd only ever seen from my father.

"I'm okay, Edward, really. My head hurts a little, but I'm fine. Actually, I'm better than fine, I'm alive because of you."

He quickly grabs me and holds me. I should feel how cold he is, but I don't. It's the last thing I feel. All I feel is Edward's arms around me. His body is trembling like mine should be. He's murmuring things I can't make out, but I catch a few words here and there, "safe", "almost lost", "Bella". When he finally lets go, I look up and see the most sincere expression in his eyes. It nearly knocks me off my feet.

"Edward?" I ask, hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

"Getting there." His voice wavers as he grabs my hands.

After the X-rays are taking, I'm taken back into another examination room. The nurse tells me to sit and wait for Dr. Cullen to come in and check my X-rays.

Dr. Cullen? Edward's dad. Oh crap!

Dr. Cullen walks in to the room. I'm momentarily dazed. He's just as attractive as Edward, but instead of the bronze mop of hair that Edward has, Dr. Cullen has the blondest of hair. He may, in fact, be one of the most handsome men I've ever seen. He's just as pale as the Cullen kids. Well, obviously. They are his flippin' children.

I can hear Edward chuckling in the corner of the room at my reaction. I turn sharply to scowl at him, but he just continues on laughing.

He's probably used to people drooling over his dad. But, holy crap, his dad is good looking.

"So, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen begins, his voice is surprisingly more airy and light than I had anticipated, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm doing fine, sir." I sigh as I scowl at Edward once more. He's sitting down, no longer laughing, but he's got a smile plastered across his face.

Dr. Cullen walks over to the light board over by Edward's seat, and shivers. I see Edward standing up with his hand on his father's shoulder. Both have their eye's closed, and for a split second, I think Edward is going to spirit his father, but he just remains there with his hand on his father's shoulder.

Dr. Cullen is shakened, but when he turns around he informs me that my X-rays are fine. He feels the back of my head lightly. He notices when I wince.

"Tender?" he asks.

"Not really." I've had worse, a lot worse, like that time I fell off the playground swing and bumped my head on the metal lining of the sand box.

"You don't have to be brave, Bella. If it hurts let me know. Alice told me that you hit your head pretty hard against the pavement."

"Alice?" I nearly shout out. I hadn't realized that Alice was in the hospital.

"Yes, my daughter. She told me she pulled you out of the way." His voice quivers. I can see the pain in Dr. Cullen's eyes. He's thinking the same thing Emmett had been thinking.

"Is she here? I want to thank her."

"Yes, she is. I'll call her down from my office, she with her brother at the moment. You're free to leave after you're done speaking with her."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen."

He politely nods his head and exits the room. A few moments later the pitter-patter of tiny feet can be heard along the hallway floor. Just as I suspect, Alice walks into the room. Immediately, she hauls herself my way and hugs me.

Wow, she really is tiny. Man, her head actually sits near my chin.

"Bella, are you okay? How's your head?" she asks. I'm a bit uncomfortable by the display of affection, but, at the same time, I'm flattered that someone who doesn't even know me cares for me.

"I'm okay, Alice. My head stings a bit, but I'm fine. How are you doing? Are you hurt?"

"No, not a scratch."

"Lucky." I glare at Edward, who has decided to take purchase right next to Alice. It takes half-a-second for me to feel guilty for glaring at him because he is staring so lovingly at Alice. There is so much emotion radiating from him.

"I don't think it was luck," she states, as she shivers. Edward's hand is in hers. He's not spiriting her like when he placed his hand on his father's shoulder.

"What do you mean, Alice?" I'm playing dumb. For some odd reason, I feel like she actually knows what's going on. Her hand begins to close around the cold one in hers.

"It was all Edward. I felt him. All I heard was 'not her' and then bam, I feel this cold chill run up my spine. The next thing I know, I'm running to save you and pushing a van away from us."

My eyes widen. I don't even know what to say. She knows. How I don't know, but I know she does.

Play dumb, Bella. Act like you think she's crazy.

"Alice, you're right." THAT'S NOT PLAYING DUMB!

"What?" she asks as she sits down in one of the chairs and stares up at me.

"I said, you're right. It was Edward."

She stands up quickly and puts her finger in my face.

"Do not toy with me, Isabella Swan. This is no laughing matter. Anyone that matters to me thinks I'm crazy at the moment. I don't appreciate you playing with my emotions. It's been really hard these last few days. I don't need someone making fun of me," she screams at me through her tears.

I turn to Edward, who's looking at me as if I've lost my mind. He also looks furious at me.

Well, you just made his sister cry. That could be why.

"Alice, I promise I'm not playing with you. It was Edward. I can see him, talk to him, and feel him."

"Shut up, Bella. SHUT UP! Stop playing with me."

"Edward, grab her hand again." I demand. He just stares at me, but he does as I say.

Do you feel something cold in your hand? That's Edward."

I see Edward grip her hand tighter, and then he grabs and hugs her. She falls right into his embrace, a new round of tears and sobs rack her tiny body. I feel like I should look away from the scene. Both of them are crying. I'm sure it would look so awkward, as if she's slanting, floating in thin air, if someone walked in right now.

"I can't–I can't believe you're telling the truth, bu–but why is he here?"

"Because he wasn't supposed to die, and I–we have to figure out why and how he died."

"We?" she asks, tentatively.

"If you'll help." I look at Edward and then Alice. He's still holding her hand; he squeezes to reassure her that this was all real, that this was truly happening.

"Of course, I'll do anything you'll need."

"Thank you, Alice."

"Of course, Bella. Can you do one thing for me?"

"Anything."

"Can you tell him, I miss him; I love him."

"You just did."

Edward again envelops Alice in a hug, and though she can't hear him, I do.

"I love you too, little one."

Alice walks out of the room, but not before telling me that we would speak about things tomorrow at school. She alson infroms me that my father is was on his way to the room.

Oh crap, Charlie. He's gonna be all paternal and in front of Edward to boot. This day can't get any worse.

As soon as he steps foot into the room, he rushes to my side; I put up my hands.

"There's nothing wrong with me, Dad. Dr. Cullen said I'm fine. I should just take it easy."

"Okay, Bella. I was so scared. You sure you're okay."

"Yes, Dad. Can we just go?"

"Of course."

Walking through the hospital waiting room is one of the most bizarre things I've ever been through in my young life. None of these people have ever acknowledged me before, but immediately stepping out of the ER, the flocks of people waiting bombard me asking me if I'm alright, and how Tyler is doing.

My dad quickly ushers me away, which of course doesn't sit well, but I redeem myself by shouting out that Tyler is doing well, just a few cuts and possibly a broken leg.

We drive in silence all the way home. I'm more than positive that Edward spends the whole ride in the back of Charlie's police cruiser pondering how he had ended up there. I silently laugh to myself watching his eyes dart from the rearview mirror to the wired window fence in front of him.

Edward Cullen in the back of a squad car, who would've ever pictured this. I wish I could take a picture of this.

When we finally get to the house, Charlie asks me if I'm hungry, and I decline, but I still make him something quick to eat. We talk for a bit while he eats, but our conversations are always so awkward, so I leave him to finish his meal and head upstairs. I grab three Tylenols from the bathroom to soothe the headache I have.

Entering my bedroom, I find Edward browsing the Internet.

"What are you looking for?" I ask.

"I'm trying to see if I can find out how I was able not to spirit Alice and my dad. I'm also trying to figure out why I can touch things. Most ghosts tales, you know say ghosts go right through things, but I don't. I mean I stopped a van fr–from killing you today," he stutters the last part of his sentence. I still don't understand why it's such a sensitive subject for him, but I don't plan on pursuing the answer tonight.

"Did you find anything?"

"No, but I'm going to try the library later tonight."

"Okay, let me get this straight. Not only did you help me cheat yesterday, but now you plan on breaking into the library. Perhaps you do belong in the back of a police cruiser."

He laughs and turns the computer off.

"Bella, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. I have a bit of a headache, but I just took some medicine for it, so I should be fine in an hour or two."

"Good. You should rest now. It's been a long day."

I nod and head back into the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I come out, Edward has already pulled the covers down and is sitting in the rocking chair in the corner.

It's almost as soon as my head hits the pillow that I'm asleep, but not before hearing Edward softly say, "Sweet dreams, Isabella".

Never has my full name sounded so beautiful.

That was the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.


	7. Chapter Six: Skeptics and True Believers

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial style, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Six**:

**Skeptics and True Believers**

* * *

In the dream, I find myself in a noisy, crowded room. There are people everywhere I turn; it's all my classmates. I can identify every single one of their faces and voices from where I am standing. I don't talk to any of them, but I can't even if I honestly want to because I never talk to them while we were in school.

All I do is walk around and observe. Even in my dream, I can tell it isn't real. I'm dressed in my pajamas, while everyone else is dressed in party attire. It's when I walk out of the living room that I spot the Cullen's and their respective others in the kitchen.

Emmett is wearing a white turtleneck sweater and some pressed jeans. It's obvious that Alice has chosen his outfit. Everyone in Forks knows about Alice Cullen's passion for fashion. When we were all in elementary school, she put on a small fashion show using the costumes in the Drama department.

I didn't participate.

Emmett's arm lay securely around Rosalie's shoulders. She's in a stunning red dress, and he's holding her frame close against him. From where I'm standing, I can see the glare he's giving to all the guys in the room, who so much as blink in her direction.

Alice and Jasper are standing right beside them. She's in a light gray dress that I can tell she chose to match with the slate blue shirt that Jasper is wearing. His arm is wrapped firmly around her waist.

Even now, I can't believe that I'm spending so much time studying what they are wearing, but that isn't even the most unusual part of the dream.

No, the most bizarre thing is Edward is standing right there next to his brother and sister. He's dressed in black, from head to toe, with his arms wrapped around Victoria's waist. The whole scene isn't strange. I've seen the couple walking the halls in school on an almost daily basis, but that was before his death.

He's dead now, and I have no idea why I'm dreaming about him, let alone him at a party with all these people I never speak to.

I just watch the party crowd as they watch a game of Quarters. Mike Newton is competing against Tyler Crowley, and he is losing miserably. Emmett is letting him know after every missed shot.

"Geeze, Newton, the whole point is to bounce the quarter _into_ the cup."

"I know that, Cullen. Lay off me."

However, that doesn't really catch my attention, as much as Victoria does.

Perhaps it's the bright green dress she has on, but something is off about her. I have only ever seen her and Edward together at school, but she seems distracted. Edward whispers something in her ear every few minutes, and she giggles, but the smile never reaches her eyes. It's never genuine, and she keeps looking around the room.

The whole atmosphere of my dream shifts the moment James stumbles into the kitchen and winks at her. It's almost like a scene from a movie. I can just imagine that this is the part of the movie where the music gets darker, and a shadow looms over everyone.

Something about their interaction bothers me. I don't know what exactly, but it irks me. I want to see what's going to happen, but a soothing, musical voice in my ear is telling me that it's time to wake up.

"Bella. Isabella, it's time to wake up. You're going to be late for school."

I swipe at the direction the voice is coming from, only to get a chuckle in return.

"Come on, Bella, you have to wake up, or you will be late."

"Ugh, umm…five…all I need is five more minutes to figure–"

"No, Bella, it's already seven. I let you sleep through your alarm clock. Charlie's already gone. I turned on the shower, so he would think you were awake."

I grunt as I turn over in my bed and sit up. I try rubbing the sleep from my eyes, so I can properly glare at Edward, but it doesn't seem to be working.

"Bella, you look like a little kid, glaring at me like that. You're even pouting; it's cute."

That woke me up, almost instantly. My eyes open widely at the word cute. Did Edward Cullen just say I was cute?

"I hate school!"

"Doesn't every red blooded American teenager?" Edward comments and I laugh.

"Yeah, but I bet I hate it more than all of them put together."

Edward just laughs, as he tugs on the covers off my bed. All I hear is the whooshing sound of the comforter before I'm being lifted out of bed.

"Edward Cullen put me down! It's cold in here, and you are even colder. Put me down!"

_Please don't put me down, please don't put me down. I love being in your arms. Even if you feel like a glacier._

"I'll put you down if you promise to get ready in the next twenty minutes. I'll go get you some cereal."

"Alright. Are you gonna be doing this every morning from now on?" _Please say yes!_

"I might have to. Do you know that you slept right through your alarm? It's loud and annoying, and yet you slept right through it. I'm kind of impressed."

"It's a gift, I tell you." I laugh, still reveling in the feeling of being in his arms. Yes, he feels like a glacier, hard and cold, but there is something so comforting about being in his arms. The feeling is so new to me. So indescribable.

"You're something else, Isabella Swan," he says as he places me down onto the floor.

"Not really. I'm pretty plain and quite boring." I shrug my shoulders and head toward the bathroom, but Edward grabs my arm, and again I'm overwhelmed by his firm touch.

"You, Bella, are far from boring and light years away from plain." He's impossibly serious at the moment, and there is so much sincerity in Edward's expression. I want to look away, but I can't. I feel as if I'm being hypnotized.

"You really shouldn't do that," I criticize. "It's hardly fair."

"Do what?"

"Dazzle me like that."

He smiles that crooked smile and just stares at me as if he's confused, and even though I'm sure he isn't, I continue speaking.

"Come on. You have to know the effect you have on people. On me."

He tilts his head to one side, and his expression is curious. "I dazzle people?"

"You haven't noticed? People fawn when they're around you."

He ignores my question and stares right into my eyes. I take a step back. The whole thing is unbelievably intense.

"Do I dazzle you, Bella?"

"Frequently," I admit.

He smiles again but doesn't say anything else. He leads me back toward the bathroom. As he glides down the steps, I swear I can hear him mutter, "Something else", but I'm sure it's just my mind playing tricks on me.

**-X-**

The trip to school is relatively the same as the day before with the exception of Edward not commenting on the state of my truck. However from the corner of my eye, I can see him scowling at it. He keeps running his hands on the peeling dashboard and trying to find a radio station. Little does he know that the FM doesn't work. The truck only gets AM stations. I don't want to tell him. Frankly, it's amusing to watch him struggle.

"Why are you laughing?" he asks, still fiddling with the radio knobs. He turns them left and right, and still all he gets is static or just news channels.

"The truck doesn't get FM reception."

He turns to stare at me, and it's the funniest expression I've ever seen. His mouth is hanging open in shock. He's in disbelief.

"Are you kidding, me? How do you survive without music in this piece of cr–in this fine automobile?" He looks out the window afterwards, avoiding my glare. We're at a red light, so I have the opportunity to argue.

"What did I tell you about making fun of my car? It does not appreciate being called a piece of crap. It has feelings you know."

"I was hoping you didn't catch that, and I'm pretty sure that the car isn't alive, so it can't have feelings."

"Neither are you, but you have feelings." He turns to me and smiles.

"Touché, Bella."

Though Edward and I are seemingly normal after yesterday's events, the kids at school are anything but.

From the moment I step out of my truck, I'm bombarded with kids I've never talked to before, even though we've been together since grade school. It's as if they were appearing from thin air.

When I think I'm relatively alone, a group six or seven kids suddenly circle around me asking me if I'm alright, and what was running through my mind when Tyler's van was coming my way.

I don't even know what I was thinking when it happened. Well, actually I had been wondering where Edward had disappeared to. Even in class, people ask me questions and notes keep falling onto my desk.

Edward just stands there laughing and commenting on all the attention I'm receiving.

"Well, would you look at this? Bella Swan at the top of the high school popularity chain."

"Yeah, for today at least. How did you deal with this every day? This is not fun at all. People I've never talked to keep asking me all these questions."

"I know Bella. I've been here all day. You should hear what people really want to ask you."

"What? Wait…have you been…_spiriting_ people today?"

Edward gives me a "who me" expression before saying yes.

"I got curious. Having the ability to get inside people's head is something out of a comic book. I mean, before I died, I was always good at reading people, but now I can actually get in their heads. If you could do it, you would," he argues, trying to convince me that what he is doing is not wrong.

I just keep quiet, shaking my head, but there's a little smile I can't seem to get off my face. I let out a deep breath as Edward smiles right back at me.

"You know I'm right."

"Yes, okay, I would have done it too. Now come on, I want to get to lunch before they close the doors, and I still have to drop my stuff off in my locker."

Edward steps out of the way, giving me room to get through the door.

I feel like an exhibit at a museum walking through the hallway. Everyone keeps staring and whispering about me. The thing everyone seems to be wondering is how I had gotten out of the way, and how Alice Cullen played a role in it. Everyone had seen me by the hood of my truck; the truck stands out boldly amongst the other cars, though the Cullen's Volvo was by far the flashiest car in the parking lot.

"I feel as if I'm on display. Everyone keeps staring," I tell Edward, as I open up my locker. It's much cleaner today. Yesterday when Edward had disappeared for a while, I organized it.

"Ignore them. They'll forget by tomorrow," he tries to reassure me. He's rubbing his hand on my shoulder, and again I'm overwhelmed and pleased by how cold he actually is. I can't even fathom it. The feeling should be bothersome, but it isn't. It's relaxing, but maybe it's just because all the attention I've been getting all day has left me stressed out.

His motions stop when he sees Alice approaching. She's alone, which is rare for her. When Alice is right next to me, Edward shifts positions and stands by her. His hand quickly finds a place on her shoulder, and she shivers. I can see her eyes welling up already.

"Hello, Bella," her voice shakes as she places her own hand on her shoulder. I watch her and Edward's eyes shutting. It's an intimate moment.

"This cold, it's him, right?" she asks. There is so much hope in her eyes. She's shaking. I don't know if it's from how cold Edward is or if it's just her nervousness.

I nod my head as I close my locker. There are only two other people in the hallway, and they are staring right at us. They're not even disguising the fact that they are trying to eavesdrop.

"I–I can't believe it. I miss him so much," she breaks down, her tiny frame falling into my slightly taller one. Edward's right there behind her, holding some of her weight off me.

"Alice, he misses you too. So much." I look up to find Edward, quivering as if he were crying. There are no tears, but his eyes are a different color. This is new. I'm so used to seeing green that this new yellowish-brown color, almost like topaz, takes me by surprise, and he notices. Even Alice notices.

"What?" They both ask, simultaneously.

"E–Edward, you–your eyes are like gold and brown like mixed."

Edward quickly rummages around Alice's bag, which scares her. We both check to see if there's anyone in the hallway now, but it's empty. Edward pulls a mirror from Alice's makeup pouch. He looks into it and sees what I see.

"Why?" he asks.

"I don't know."

"Another thing to add to the list."

I nod my head and turn back to Alice. Her eyes are wide, and I realize that it must look strange to see a mirror miraculously be pulled out of her bag. Let alone the fact that it's floating in the air.

"I—I wanted to believe it was real. I mean, I sort of believed the cold thing, and in the hospital, but that, that confirmed it. This is real. Oh my God–" She doesn't even finish what she's saying before she falls to the floor, sobbing into the hands that helped save my life just the day before.

Edward is right there with her, his arms wrap entirely around her. I can hear Edward whispering for her to calm down, but she can't hear him.

"Alice, you need to calm down. Someone might hear you and wonder what's going on."

She shivering, shaking her head from side to side in disbelief. Through her deep breaths, I hear the words "can't believe" and "Edward." Watching her on the floor with Edward is literally tearing my heart apart. It's the most tragic thing I've ever seen. I know I shouldn't be looking, and yet I can't stop.

Alice's sobs begin to quiet down, and her breathing becomes to even out. Edward helps her up off the floor. Standing next to Edward, Alice looks like a little girl. He has over a foot on her.

"Alice," I whisper. She lifts her eyes to meet mine. "Are you okay?"

"Ye–yeah, I just never thought something like this was real."

"I know how you feel, but I actually see him and talk to him. Imagine that." I turn to look at Edward. His eyes are still that topaz color, but little tints of green are starting to appear in his irises.

"I can't believe that he's really here. It's so unreal, but I'm so happy."

"He's happy too, Alice. I promise."

"I miss hi–you so much, Edward," she corrects herself.

"I miss you, too, little one." He's back at her side, his hand on her shoulder. Her hand instinctively reaches for the cold spot again.

"He says, he misses you too, little one." It's odd to say, but the gleam of pure joy in her eyes makes it all the better.

"Um, Bella, would you sit with me at lunch today? Well, the family?"

_She's asking me to sit with her at the table where Edward always sat. Is she out of her mind? I don't fit in there._

"Alice, I don't think that's a good idea. Maybe some other time, but if you ever want to come sit with me, you're more than welcome. Right now, I'm headed to the library to do more research on this whole thing."

It's a lie. I had no plans on going to the library, but the mere thought of sitting with Alice and her crowd scares me, and the worst part is that Edward knows.

"Bella," his voice is stern as he speaks. I ignore him. _Man, he sounds angry._

"I'll see you later, Alice?"

"Yes, of course. We have a lot to talk about. I'll see you later, Bella…Edward." She squeezes the cold on her shoulder before she turns to walk away. I watch Edward's hand slip from her shoulder. She turns around and waves with one hand. The other rubs at the remnants of her tears.

When she's out of sight, I grab my lunch and sit on the floor. I told her I was going to the library; I can't very well go to the cafeteria now. She would catch me in my lie.

The floor is hard, but it doesn't actually bother me. What bothers me is Edward's pacing in front of me. I refuse to look up, but I can see his feet and the blue glow moving left and right.

"Why didn't you go sit with Alice?" he finally speaks up.

"Can you imagine, _me_, sitting with the so-called 'in' crowd? People would freak out, and Rosalie scares me and let's not even talks about Emmett.

"Emmett's a teddy bear, and Rosalie is only that way at first. If you fail to impress her, she'll just ignore you.

"You see. I can't impress her. I shouldn't even be in the same air space as her or anybody else at that table, or even you," I mumble the last part, but he still hears it.

"What do you mean by that?" He's now sitting beside me. The cold is radiating off him toward me.

"Nothing."

"No, tell me, what you meant by that."

"Don't worry about it, Edward."

"You don't see yourself, very clearly do you? You're kind of amazing, Bella." He's staring right at me, and I lose myself in his eyes. They're back to their normal green color.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Dazzling me."

He smiles as he pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. It looks like some sort of form or application.

"What's that?" I ask.

"The police report."


	8. Chapter Seven: There Are A Million Reaso

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**** THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES QUOTES FROM CHAPTER FIVE OF _TWILIGHT_. ****

**SPECIAL NOTE: The Quileute legend in this chapter is something I made up. The names are actually Hopi. Kachina really does mean Spirt, Sacred Dance. Chebeyo means warrior spirit, and Amadahy is Cherokee for forest River.**

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**:

**There Are A Million Reasons For Why This May Not Work... And Just One Good One For Why It Will**

* * *

"Po–police report?"

Edward turns to me and passes me the yellow slip. His face is blank. His eyes are dead. All the light in them gone. What he just gave me might possibly be the biggest clue in figuring out why and how Edward died.

It's an accident report from his death on Friday. According to the paper, the accident happened early Saturday morning, around two in the morning to be exact. There are no real specifics or details written on the paper. I can recognize the scrawl on the paper; it's Charlie's chicken scratch that he passes off as handwriting. I can hardly read the paper, between Charlie's kindergarten penmanship and the fact that it's a carbon copy, but some words are clearly legible.

**SUSPECTED FOUL PLAY/ BRAKES WERE CUT**

I'm stunned. _Foul play? Brakes were cut? They think someone intentionally cut his brakes? Someone wanted Edward dead? But who?_

"Edward?" It's barely even a whisper. I'm so afraid to speak out loud though I don't know why. Perhaps it's the fact that knowing that someone had wanted Edward dead, or maybe it's the look on his face. I don't even look at him as I speak. I can't bear to see the pain and grief etched across his face. There's supposed to be a smile on his face, a light in his eyes.

He should be alive right now.

"Someone wanted me dead, Bella," Edward answers. His voice wavers the entire time. We discovered that he couldn't cry beforehand, even if he wanted to, but it didn't mean that the sobs couldn't be experienced.

He's sobbing. Crying the only way his circumstance is allowing him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Edward."

I don't know why I'm apologizing, but it's all I can say. He turns to me, and his eyes are once again golden-brown. _Is that what it means? His eyes reveal his emotions?_I stare at him for possibly more time than I should because he blinks, and I'm shaken out of my stupor.

"Why are you apologizing, Bella? You're not the one who cut my brakes. You weren't even there that night."

"You're eyes are that golden-brown again. I think whenever you're overwhelmed by something your eyes change color, like your emotions control it."

"But were they golden-brown in the hospital?" he asks.

"No, but you know all these things are taking time to develop. Maybe this is one of those things."

"That's so weird. All these new things keep popping up every day."

"Well, you've only been like this since Saturday. There's probably a lot more you can do."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he replies. "I know this is going to sound weird, but do I look lighter to you, like more transparent?"

I take a minute to thoroughly look at Edward, and he's right. He honestly looks _lighter_, for lack of a better word.

"Wow, you do. That's really weird. When did you notice this?"

"When I left the police station this morning. Before you woke up."

"Weird," is all I manage to say, before the bell rings. I didn't even get to eat my sandwich.

Edward helps me up off the floor, and for the umpteenth time, I can't stop myself from losing myself in the cold that radiates from him. He's so cold it almost burns when we touch, and yet I can't get enough of it. I shiver like always. Edward immediately retracts his hand and apologizes in the process.

"Sorry. I keep forgetting I'm a walking piece of ice."

"It doesn't bother me." His eyes travel to the bag with my lunch in it.

"Oh man, you didn't get to eat. I feel terrible from keeping you from your lunch."

"Relax, Edward. I'll eat it on the way home. It's just a turkey sandwich, nothing major. Plus, I don't eat lunch too often. I'm never really hungry until I'm home."

"I'm always–well, I was always hungry when I was alive. I bet I could have eaten a whole deer, a ten point buck if I had ever had the opportunity."

"Eww, why would you want to eat a deer?"

"It was meant to be a figure of speech."

"I know."

"What do you have next?" he asks as I search for my books in my locker.

"Biology."

**-X-**

I run to class because Edward holds me up a bit at my locker. I don't want to be late for class, especially since Mr. Banner seems to have a vendetta against me, as it is, so why push it.

I'm lucky that I get to class right as the bell rings, and Mr. Banner isn't in the room yet.

I settle in my seat, just as Mr. Banner comes into room, already shouting and calling the class to attention. I can feel Edward behind me as Mr. Banner speaks. I'm not listening to what he's saying. I'm too focused on the cold air drifting my way. I can see Mr. Banner juggling a few small cardboard boxes in his arms as he speaks. He's explaining something, but I don't pick up a word of what he's saying. All my senses seem to have shut off. It's not like I haven't been this close to Edward these past two days, but the chill of his body keeps running up under the sliver of skin my sweater reveals as I lean forward.

_Stupid sweater._

I see Mr. Banner place whatever boxes he's holding, on to Mike Newton's lab table and asking him to pass whatever is in the boxes out. I finally start to pay attention to what's going on.

"Okay, guys, I want you all to take one piece from each box," Mr. Banners says, as he produces a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab jacket and pulls them down. He snaps the gloves on, and I'm taken aback by the sounds. It's a bit ominous. He pulls a card out of the box and holds it up to present to the class.

"The first should be an indicator card," he goes on, displaying what it looks like. "The second is a four-pronged applicator–" he holds up something that looks like a toothless hair pick "–and the third is a sterile micro-lancet." He holds up a small piece of blue plastic and splits it open. The barb is invisible from where I'm sitting, but my stomach flips nonetheless.

_Are we doing something with blood? Please say no, please say no!_

Edward feels me tense on my lab stool, but I'm pretty sure everyone can see I am tense. I'm stiff as a board, my back straight and eyes wide. My breathing is labored as I stare at Mr. Banner. He's going around the room with a dropper of water to prepare the applicators. He starts with Mike's table, placing a drop of water into each of the four squares.

"After I come around to your table, I want you to all carefully prick your finger with the lancet…" He grabs Mike's middle finger. _Oh crap. Oh no._My breathing is unsteady now. I'm nearly gasping out loud. Clammy moisture starts to break out across my forehead. Edward's eyes are wide, as he watches my reaction to the lesson.

"Bella are you okay? Bella? BELLA!" he screams at the end, but I'm unresponsive. All I can do is focus on Mike's hand.

"Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs." Mr. Banner demonstrates, squeezing Mike's finger until the blood begins to flow. I close my eyes, finally tearing my gaze away from the scene. I'm trying to hear through the ringing in my ears, trying not to faint as my stomach heaves.

"Bella? Bella, are you sick?" Edward asks concerned, his hand rubbing my back, but still I remain unresponsive. I don't even feel the cold.

Mr. Banner is going on about some Red Cross blood drive in Port Angeles, looking very proud of himself, because he wants us to know our blood type, so that those of us old enough can go donate.

_Fat chance, I'm letting anyone near my arm with a needle. Fat chance, I'd let myself be around all that blood, in the first place._

He goes around the room with the water drops, and I put my head against the cool black tabletop and try to hold onto my consciousness. Edward's rubbing my back the entire time trying to calm me down. Under any other circumstance, it would have worked, but right now, there is no way anything can make me relax. All around me I can hear the squeals, complaints, and giggles of my classmates as they skewer their fingers. I breathe slowly in and out of my mouth, trying to stop myself from smelling all the blood.

"Bella, are you all right?" Mr. Banner asks, when he reaches my table. His voice is close to my head, and he sounds alarmed.

"I already know my blood type, Mr. Banner," I say, barely able to speak up. _I think I'm gonna puke._

"Are you feeling faint?"

"Yes, sir," I mutter. I'm embarrassed to admit it. I don't want everyone to think I'm a bigger loser than I already am, but of course life hates me because he announces it to the whole class.

"Can someone take Bella to the nurse, please?" he requests.

_What did I do in a past life to earn such rotten luck? Honestly? What the hell did I do?__No one's gonna volunteer._

I turn to my left to ask Edward to throw a book at Mr. Banner. Yes, it's mean, but it would provide a distraction from his request. Then I can just run out of the classroom by myself, though I don't think I can walk, but he's not there. _Where the hell did he go?_But before I can really contemplate where Edward's disappeared off to, I hear Mike Newton's voice from the other side of the lab.

"I'll take her, Mr. Banner," he confidently says, standing up as the class all stares at him.

"Can you walk?" Mr. Banner asks me. "Yes," I whisper, though I'm not so sure. If anything, I'll just crawl all the way to the nurse's office.

Mike seems oddly eager when he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me off the floor. He's carrying me like a bride. Everyone is now staring at us.

"No need to worry, Mr. B, I got her," he valiantly says, while he grabs my bag, holding me in one hand, using the other to grab it.

_I didn't know Newton was this strong. And where the hell did Edward go?_

"Thank you, Mike," Mr. Banner replies, tentatively, watching us walk out the room. As soon as the door closes, Mike speaks.

"Bella, are you alright?" But it's not Mike's voice that I hear.

"Edward?" _So, that's where he went._I feel dumb for not noticing that Mike eyes are Edward's green and not Mike's baby blue ones."What are you doing? Everyone just saw Mike Newton come to my rescue like some knight in shining armor. How is he, how are we supposed to explain that when you get out of his body? What were you thinking, Edward? And put me down, I'm fully capable of walking."

He just chuckles, placing me down all whilst apologizing. It's so odd to be staring at Mike and hearing Edward.

"I'm sorry. It's just that, I thought you were gonna faint, so when Mr. Banner asked if anyone would take you to the nurse's office, I chose someone to do it. Mike seemed like the perfect candidate, plus he was going to volunteer even before I spirited him."

I want to argue with him, but I can't because we're already by the nurse's office, and he's already babbling with her about what happened in the Biology lab. It's Mike's voice, he's using. When they're done talking, the nurse's assistant leads me and "Mike" to an empty room. She tells me to lie down and just relax. She leaves a bottle of water and tells us that when I'm feeling better I can go back to class. She doesn't send Mike back to class.

"Why didn't she send you back to class?"

"I told her that Mr. Banner told me to stay with you. Ms. Cope is quite gullible. I can get you out of your next class if you'd like. What do you have?" he says, Edward's voice resonating melodiously in the tiny room.

"She's not gonna let me go home, though that would be great. I hate gym."

"Watch me work my magic."

"Are you kidding, Edward? She's gonna laugh in your face."

"You just look like you're dying, okay?"

I nod my head and watch as he strolls toward the nurse's desk. He turns to me and winks, smirking the entire time. It looks odd because it's Mike. _Edward would look sexy smirking like that._

"Ms. Cope," he begins, and I try not to laugh. He sounds as if he's trying to flirt with her, but I also notice that he's using his voice and not Mike's. Ms. Cope hasn't noticed. _Man, she's dim._

"Bella has gym next hour, and I don't think she feels well enough. Actually, I was thinking I should take her home now. Do you think you could excuse us both from class?" His voice is like melting honey. Ms. Cope giggles, actually giggles.

_Ew, it's Mike Newton that you're staring at. You dirty old woman, but who could blame you for melting at that voice? But Newton would never speak like that. Jeeze, she really is gullible._

"I don't know, Mr. Newton, that wouldn't be very responsible."

"Ms. Cope, I would feel horrible knowing that I left Bella here to drive home in such conditions. She is far too ill to drive herself home. It would put my conscience at ease if I could get her home safely."

I can see her resolve slipping, as she restrains a smile.

"Oh, you make an excellent point, Michael. I'll give you both a note that you can show Coach Clapp tomorrow."

"Thank you, Ms. Cope. My conscience thanks you as well," he adds, smiling brightly at the old woman and heads my way, smirking.

"I have no idea how you pulled that off, especially since you didn't use Mike's voice, but thank you."

"Not a problem, Bella. Just look sick when we walk by her. And of course I didn't use Mike's voice. She would've laughed and sent us to gym with bells on our feet to make sure we got there."

I chuckle lightly, as he picks me up again, mine and Mike's backpacks hanging from his shoulders.

"I can walk, you know." _Don't let go. Don't ever let go._

"I know that, but it will help with my story."

"Right," I nod and groan painfully when we walk by the desk. Ms. Cope looks at us, tells me to feel better, and thanks Mike, adding something about how chivalry isn't dead just yet.

As we head over to my truck, he opens the door and slides me into the passenger's side. He jogs to the driver's side and hops into the truck. _When did he get my keys?_

"Edward, Mike has his own car and his own life. You can't just go and borrow his body."

I watch as Edward pulls himself away from Mike's body, the blue aura around him drifts to the right. Edward is now standing outside my door, as Mike is trying to figure out he got into my truck.

"Why am I in your truck?" he asks, rubbing his face.

I can hear Edward from where I'm seated. "Lie."

"You took me to the nurse's office when I was feeling sick during Bio, and then Ms. Cope excused us from gym, and then you offered to take me home."

"I said lie." I heard Edward groan as he slid between Mike and I.

"Oh," is all he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, do you think you can drive yourself home? I guess I forgot to mention that I have to work today when I offered to take you."

"Yeah, it's fine. Thanks for everything, Mike," I say, sweetly. Edward notices and grins. He again disappears into Mike, and I hear him laugh as he pulls out once more. Mike shakes himself, muttering "weird" as he steps out of the car.

"Well, I hope you feel better, Isabella. See you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mike."

He waves as he walks toward his car, and Edward sits in the driver's seat chuckling. _What is so funny, Cullen?_

"Why are you laughing?"

"Did you just flirt with, Mike Newton? Because let me tell you, you just made his year. I knew he thought you were pretty, but man he really likes you."

"What?" _Mike Newton has a thing for me? He never even talks to me._

"Yeah, he really has a thing for you. He kept thinking about kissing you. It was a bit disgusting."

"Oh, so it's disgusting that a guy would want to kiss me?" I lash out without thinking. I'm offended. I mean, I know I'm not attractive, but to hear Edward confirm it, hurts. It stings hard. Edward notices because he starts to apologize, but I keep rambling on, not letting him continue.

"I know I'm not pretty, Edward, but I don't think that I'm disgusting or anything." I can feel tears welling in my eyes. _This is so embarrassing. I'm about to cry in front of Edward. Again. Well, it is his fault. _

"No, Bella, that's not what I meant at all," he exclaims as he grabs my face. His hands are so cold, but they're soothing the anger and heat coursing through me. "It's just that the idea of Mike Newton kissing you is repulsive. And stop saying that you're not pretty, Bella. You're beautiful."

A chill runs through my body as he stares at me. He just called me beautiful with so much conviction that I'm almost forced to believe him. I swallow loudly, as he removes his hands from my face.

"Let's get you home, Bella. I would drive, but you know phantom driver might freak the locals."

I laugh. He's got quite a talent for easing the tension.

**-X-**

_Ugh, stupid alarm clock. Stupid sun. SUN?_

I wake up Wednesday morning to the shrieking of my alarm clock, and the sun streaking across my face. As I walk up to my window, I'm greeted with a clear blue sky and a beaming sun high in the sky. _Forks third sunny day of the year_. I guess the weatherman had no idea what he was talking about yesterday.

When I head back over to my bed, I see a note on the nightstand. It's a yellow post-it note stuck to my lamp shade.

**_I won't be around today.  
I'll explain it to you when I can.  
I need to show you something_****_unbelievable.  
See you tonight.  
~Edward_**

_I need to show you something, unbelievable._ What could he be talking about? His note put a damper on my mood. All I can think about is that I'm gonna have to go through the whole day without seeing him. I'm not going to have anyone to talk to during lunch.

Man, today is gonna suck!

**-X-**

School is uneventful. _Of course. My only friend has one class with me the whole day, and the other person I'm acquainted with is a ghost. My life is a joke._

However, Mike does come up to talk to me to ask how I'm feeling. He smiles the entire time, genuinely interested in what I am saying. It takes me by surprise to see him act that way, but it doesn't mean that things are different.

At lunch, I sit alone, as always. I immerse myself in a book and have a sandwich. Throughout the period, I feel someone staring at me, but I don't turn around to find out who it is.

It's not until I get home, that anything interesting happens.

As I drive home, I actually use the visors in the truck. The sun is bright, and even though it's cold outside, the fact that there is sun is warming. I'm actually cheerful as I drive to my house though school was boring and Edward is gone. The day is too beautiful to damper it with a sour mood.

When I reach my house, I notice Charlie's cruisers and a familiar pick-up truck in the driveway.

The Blacks are visiting.

The Blacks, Billy and Jacob, are old family friends who live up in the Quileute Reservation. I've known them since I was little, but we rarely get to see each other. The only time they really come down is during baseball season, so their visit is unexpected.

I hop out of the car, careful not to trip on the way to the door. When I get inside, I'm met with happy greetings from Charlie, Billy and Jacob.

"Hey, Bells. How was school?" Charlie asks. It's the same question every day, and every day he gets the same answer.

"It was good, Dad."

"Isabella, how are you?"

"I'm good, Billy. How are you?"

"Still dancing," he jests, swiveling his wheelchair around.

"That's good."

"What's up, Bella?" Jacob asks, standing up. _God, he's tall. Did he get taller? Again?_

"Jake, I swear, you're taller every time, I see you."

"Maybe you're just getting shorter."

"Yeah, no. I think it's the other way around. So, what brings you guys here?"

Billy looks serious for a moment studying me. I feel a cold chill pass by me. _Was that Edward?_

"Just wanted to visit Charlie. We're gonna go fishing this weekend." His tone is suddenly very serious. He's practically glaring at me and the staircase.

"It's freezing outside. You sure you guys want to go fishing in this weather?"

"It is, but that just means less people fishing, which in turn means more fish for us," Charlie reasons.

"True."

"So, Bella," Billy slowly starts, "Anything happening with you? Any new friends?"

For a second, I wonder if he knows about Edward, but that's impossible. There's no way anyone knows about Edward.

"Nope. Same ole', same ole'." I'm slightly uncomfortable, all of sudden. The air in the room has seemingly gotten thicker. _Maybe Billy does know. Maybe I could ask him about it. Maybe Jacob knows._

"Hey Jacob, you wanna hang out up stairs, while the old men gossip?"

"We don't gossip, Bella," Charlie defends, "And we sure as hell ain't old."

"Yeah, we're not old. I bet we could take you two in a fight," Billy adds laughing, but his gaze is still on me and still serious.

"Sure, sure geezers. Let's go Bella, before they start hitting us with their canes."

Everyone laugh as Jacob and I head upstairs.

I close the door, once we're inside my bedroom. Charlie doesn't say anything about it. He knows that Jacob and I are just friends.

I notice that someone has cleaned the room because the bed is made and all the clothes and books that I threw about the floor are gone. I find another note on the lamp. I pull it off quickly, so Jacob doesn't see it.

**_Ask him about the legend of Kachina and_****_Chebeyo.  
He might not know it, but please ask. It's very important.  
See you later.  
~Edward_**

"Hey, Jake. Can I ask you something?"

"Anything Bells. You know that."

"What can you tell me about the legend of Kachina and Chebeyo?" I ask as I sit on my bed, pocketing the note alongside the one from this morning.

"You know about that?" he asks, surprised that I would ask about a Quileute legend.

"No, that's why I'm asking."

"Do you know any of our stories?"

"No. I overheard someone talking about the legend of Kachina and Chebeyo today. I was going to research it when I got home, but I have the real deal here, so I thought I'd ask." The lie comes easily. Jacob chuckles and sits on the bed next to me. It's such a stark contrast to Edward. Jacob feels like fire compared to Edward's ice.

"The legend is really a love story. Sort of like a Native American _Romeo_ _and_ _Juliet_ meets ghost story. "

"What do you mean?" I ask, curiously. _Why does Edward want me to know this?_

"Well, Kachina and Chebeyo were from different tribes, rival tribes. Kachina was a beautiful woman whose job it was to wash the uniforms of her tribes' warriors, and Chebeyo was a warrior that watched over the river for his tribe. Their lands were divided by the Amadahy River. That's where they saw each other for the first time, from across the river. They would see each other every sundown when they she would go to the river to wash, and he would go to guard. The legend goes that they fell in love at first sight. So, for years they always showed up at the river at the same time, so they could see one another. It's really cheesy."

"No, that's sweet and romantic."

"Yeah, okay. Of course, _you_ would find it romantic. You're such a girl, sometimes."

"Oh, shut up Jacob. Continue."

"Well, oh, I forgot to tell you this, Kachina means Spirit, Sacred Dancer. In other words, someone who can see spirits."

That catches my interest. _Where had Edward found out about this? How did he know?_

"Well, their interactions didn't go unnoticed. Though they never did anything or said anything to each other, it was seen as wicked, and Kachina's father sent out his sons to kill Chebeyo. The next day when Chebeyo was not at the river, Kachina was devastated, but as she walked away from the river, the spirit of Chebeyo stopped her. She was shocked of course, because he was on her side of the river, but she noticed things about him. There was a light around him, and his body was ice cold. She knew he was dead. She couldn't understand why she could see him or touch him, but she knew no one else could."

Jacob turns to look at me, and I stare back at him. I'm so intrigued by the story. He continues when he notices my interest.

"Well, when she and Chebeyo began to talk, they figured out that he'd been killed, but they didn't know how or why. As the days passed, they looked for answers. Slowly, they began to unravel the mystery of his death. They also fell in love. Well, they had already been in love, but could never do anything about it, but now they could. When she figured out that her brothers had killed him, his spirit disappeared. Again, she was devastated. She spent the entire night by the river. When she woke up the next morning, she found herself on his side of the river, his arms wrapped around her. Apparently, their love had brought him back from the dead."

I sit there in shock, just staring at Jacob.

"I told you it was corny."

"No, it's a beautiful story about the power of love. What I don't get is how he came back?"

"She solved the mystery of Chebeyo's death. He was never supposed to die because he was destined to love her."

We don't say anything for a few minutes, but it doesn't matter because Billy is calling Jacob back downstairs. I look to my alarm clock and see that it's already nine.

"I'll see you, Bells. I hope you liked the story."

"I did. Thanks for telling me. Now I won't feel so left out of people's conversation's at school." Another lie.

"How did they know about the legend?" he asks, surprised that the kids in my school would know about the story.

"I don't know," I lie.

"Uh, whatever. See you, Bells."

"Bye Jacob."

I look around the room to see if Edward has come back, but he hasn't. It doesn't really bother me at the moment. I keep thinking about the Quileute legend. _He wasn't supposed to die_. The story is so much like that of Edward and I, except we aren't in love with each other. Well, at least he isn't.

It's not until midnight that Edward finally makes it back to my room.

"Hey, where've you been all day?" I ask.

"I can't explain it. I'll show you as soon as I can. Whenever this place gets some sun again."

_Sun? What did the sun have to do with anything?_ I ignore what he says.

"So, did you hear the legend?"

"No, I read about it earlier, that's why I told you to ask him. I thought it would be better if you heard it from him. I probably would've botched the story."

"Do you think that could happen? Like if I found out who killed you, you'd come back to life."

"I'd believe just about anything today. I swear I saw big foot today, while I was in the woods."

"Very funny. Wait, why were you in the woods?" I ask, trying to suppress a yawn, but it still comes out.

"I'll tell you about it tomorrow. Why don't you go to bed, now? It's late, and you look exhausted."

He gets up from the bed, and I move under the covers. He's right, I am exhausted.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, Isabella."

"You know I hate when people use my full name, and yet you say it, and it doesn't bother me at all. I kind of like it." I blush. _I can't believe I just said that out loud. I'm such an idiot._

"I'm glad," he says and smiles walking toward rocking chair. He sits down and pulls a book out from his pocket. I try to watch him for a while, but sleep comes faster than I expect. As I'm drifting off to sleep, I feel Edward by my side.

Maybe I'm already dreaming and don't realize it, but I swear I feel Edward kiss my cheek, and whisper, "Goodnight, beautiful," before he takes off out the window.


	9. Chapter Eight: Closer

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Eight****:**

**Closer**

* * *

"Bella!" I hear a feminine voice yell from across the parking lot. Alice Cullen is heading my way. She's alone, but I can see that Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, and even Edward are by the Volvo. The three of them as well as the rest of the student body in the parking lot turn to stare at me as Alice and Edward make their way toward me, though all they see is Alice. _Man, thank God they only see Alice. Imagine if it were the other way around. Imagine if it were Edward walking toward me. People would drop dead._

My eyes are wide in shock, I'm sure of it because the wind is starting to dry them out. I blink furiously trying to get my tear ducts to start working. _Ugh, my eyes itch. Stupid wind._

It's another typical day in the Pacific North West, cold and overcast. There's a bit of a wetness in the air, but nothing that stops the students from standing around in the parking lot. No matter how cold it gets in Forks, students never enter the school until a few minutes before first period. No one wants to be in there, myself included.

"Morning, Bella," Alice greets me, chipper as can be. She quickly hugs me, and that manages to get even more looks from the parking lot crowd. _Why must we have an audience? Is it so hard to believe that I, Bella Swan, may actually know someone?_

The morning is already becoming an indicator of what kind of day I'm going to have, but to be honest, I think my dream last night is more of a sign.

Last night after I swear Edward kissed my cheek, I had the same dream. Again, I was in the noisy house filled with my classmates. They were all screaming, trying to talk over one another. No one even realized I was there in Charlie's Forks High sweatshirt from the eighties and some sweat pants. I even had slippers instead of proper shoes on.

I didn't do anything in the dream but walk around, and again I couldn't control where I walked. I quickly found my way to the kitchen where the dream had taken place last time. There was Emmett in his white turtleneck sweater, his arm around Rosalie's shoulder trying to cover up as much skin her red dress showed off. I remember smiling in my dream watching how protective he was of her, glaring at ever guy who so much as dared to breath in her direction. Right next to them, Alice and Jasper were entwined with each other.

The game of quarters between Mike and Tyler was in full force, and Edward was there looking happy, laughing with his arm around Victoria. He was full of life. It had been almost painful to watch, but this time the dream ended before James came into the room, but this time I woke abruptly when I felt like someone was staring at me. It was exactly the same feeling I had gotten in lunch the day before.

So, talking to Alice right now, doesn't seem so odd. It's as if I knew it was going to happen.

"Morning Bella," she says again. She shifts her eyes around a bit before meekly adding, "Morning, Edward." He's standing right beside her. He smiles and places his hand in hers. She shivers and ducks her head. When she looks back up, she's beaming. She's got the biggest smile on her face.

"God, I miss you so much, Edward. It's not the same without you banging on the bathroom door, telling me to hurry up before we're late. Even though we're never late. I see he's instilled that on you too, Bella."

I laugh, nodding. _She's right. Ever since Edward's popped into my life, I've been on time to school._

Edward squeezes Alice's hand again. This time, a tear streaks down her face. I can tell she's trying not to cry, but she can't control it. Her head ducks down once more. All the while, Edward is watching her, his eyes are slowly changing into that golden brown color.

"Alice, don't cry. He misses you, too. I know he does. He tells me every day. He even watches you sleep." I try to comfort her, assure her that she's not the only one who feels that way.

"Really?" Alice asks, her eyes wide, as she lifts her head up.

"Yes. He knows you've been sleeping in his room," I tell her, much to her dismay. She looks almost afraid by the information and gasps.

"So, he knows that–," she doesn't finish her sentence. She looks over her shoulder at Jasper. He smiles at her, nodding his head. She's obviously told him that she would be talking with me. She turns back to face me.

"Tell her I know that Jasper's been sneaking in through the basement window at night. That's why she looks nervous. Tell her that I don't care. They love each other, and I trust them," Edward speaks up for the first time since we've arrived.

"I am not telling her that, Edward." Through clenched teeth, I let him know that I'm not in the mood to embarrass his sister, even if it's unintentional.

"Please, Bella? She feels really guilty about it," he defends, and I can't deny him. He's so sincere, it almost hurts to look at him when he speaks like this. There's this incredible sadness that takes over his eyes and even more so now that I can tell since they change colors.

"Okay. Edward wants you to know, that he trusts you, and he doesn't care that Jasper sneaks in through the basement window."

Alice's head whips around to look over to Jasper, again, and then just as quickly her head snaps back to look at me.

"Well, this is kind of awkward knowing that my brother has watched my boyfriend and I sleep in his bed."

"Yeah," I chuckle. _She has a point. I would be freaking out about it, if I were her, but it's not as if there's anybody who would want to sneak into my bedroom at night, especially with Charlie and his shotgun right down the hall._

We stand around silently for a few moments, the three of us rocking on the balls of our feet.

"Well, I'm gonna head back to Jasper, plus the bell's gonna ring in like five minutes, but why don't you come sit with us today. I have so much to ask you," she asks so earnestly. It's almost hard to deny her.

"Ah, Alice, I don't think that's a really good idea."

"Bella, you never sit with anyone. You only ever talk to Angela and sometimes Ben. All you ever do is read when you come to the lunchroom. I _really_ want you to sit with us, not because of Edward. He did always want to talk to you," she adds the last part, coyly. There's a tiny smirk playing across her face that looks exactly like her brother's.

I stare blankly at her, too afraid to look up at Edward, but I hear an annoyed "Alice" from him.

"Alice, I'm the, 'suffer in silence' type. I actually enjoy sitting alone. It's quite peaceful." This time I catch Edward's eyes, and he's giving me the most bizarre look. His eyes are slowly shifting back to their normal color.

"Please sit with us today," she insists, pleading with her eyes.

"Alice, if you really want to talk with me," I look around to make sure no one has suddenly walked around us, "then meet me at my locker at the beginning of lunch. We'll go somewhere private, so we can _all_ talk."

"Okay," she concedes, but I can tell she won't go down with a fight. She points at me with a big smile on her face and practically demands that I sit with her tomorrow.

"You will sit with us tomorrow, Bella. No, ifs, ands, or buts about it."

"Sure," I timidly respond. _I'll just stay clear of the lunch room and then I won't have to sit_ _with them._

"I mean, it Bella. I will hunt you down," she laughs, as she starts to walk away. "I'll see you later."

There are two minutes until the bell rings, so I head inside. I pass by the Volvo and Alice's waves. I wave back and smile. Edward is standing between Alice and Emmett, his hand firmly on Emmett's shoulder and his hand in Alice's.

**-X-**

"Your sister's… persistent," I tell Edward, as I stand by my locker waiting for Alice. The first half of the school day is done. It practically flew by me. I didn't even realize that it was time for lunch until Edward reminded me, as we walked to my locker.

"Persistent. That's a nice way of putting it," Edward chuckles. "You can be honest, Bella. She's pushy."

"No, she's just... insistent," I try to defend, skimming through my head for as many synonyms for persistent as quickly as I can. He has a point when he calls Alice pushy, but I'm not about to tell him that. He laughs, his eyes shining. He looks so happy right now.

"Bella, I grew up with her. I _know_ she's pushy. You have no idea what it was like growing up with her. Having to have tea parties, and playing house, and then all her little fashion shows."

"Why didn't you just tell her no?"

"'Cause she's my sister, and I love her. Plus, she would cry until she got her way. Our mom always sided, still sides, with her," Edward explains, smiling. His eyes are closed, and I can tell he's picturing everything.

"You're lucky though."

"What do you mean?" His eyes pop open.

"You have–"

"Had," he corrects me.

"Whatever, Edward. You _had_ siblings. That must have been great, having a friend right from the start. I grew up alone, my mom was really my only friend, and then when she died–" I let my sentence trail off as I see Alice approaching. She waves vivaciously as she skips toward me. _She is way too perky._

"Hey Bella," she greets me with a hug, whispering a hello to Edward. He acknowledges her presence, even though she can't see him, but his eyes are still focused on me. _Why is he staring at me like that? Please don't pity me, Edward. That's the last thing I need, for a ghost to pity me. Is my life that sad?_

"Hi, Alice. Let's head over to the library, so we can sit in the back."

"Lead the way, Bella." _Way too chipper._

As we walk into the library, Mr. Ponce greets me, graciously, like every other time I come in. Alice gives me an odd look, but I soon figure out what it means, when we sit down.

"You come here a lot, don't' you?" she asks, taking in her new setting.

"Yeah, it's a nice place to escape."

"I don't get it, Bella. Why do you keep to yourself?" Her head is in her hand as she asks. She staring right at me, but she's not the only one. Right next to her, Edward is sitting in the same exact position, with the same look on his face.

"No reason. It's just always been that way."

"Well, tomorrow, you're sitting with my friends and I. Don't even think about sneaking away from me," she commands, and I'm almost afraid of her. _Who am I kidding? I _am_ afraid of her._

"Okay. So, what did you want to talk about Alice?"

"How is it that you see, Edward?"

"I don't know. This is just as new for me as it is for you," I tell her honestly.

"You said I could talk to him?"

"Yeah, umm, well not really talk, but since there's really no one in the library, I thought you could talk, and he could write his answers down."

"That's brilliant," Edward and Alice both say in unison. I can't help but laugh, Edward does, as well.

"Why are you laughing?" Alice asks, one eyebrow raised in question and confusion.

"You and Edward, said the same thing. You really are brother and sister."

"We were always in sync, always calling 'jinx' on each other." Alice warily smiles, but I can see the pain in her eyes. Her brother was her protector, and now he's gone. She's lost without him, and he isn't fairing any better. His eyes are once again changing. The green is slowly swirling and fading into that odd golden-brown color. His emotions really do affect his eyes.

I pull my notebook out of my backpack, ripping a couple of sheets out, and hand them over to Edward.

"I need a pen, Bella," he chuckles. His eyes are back to their normal green shade. I go searching for a pen in my bag, but Alice beats me to it. She pulls out a red pen and places it on top of the paper.

Nobody says anything for a few moments. It's almost as if everyone is too afraid to move or speak, but eventually Edward picks up the pen and begins to scrawl across the page. Alice's eyes widen, and her mouth gapes open as she watches the words appear on the paper. Her breathing is slightly jagged, and there's the slightest glimmer of tears shining in her eyes. It's not until now that I can see that Alice truly and utterly believes that Edward is here.

"Oh my," I hear her whisper as her head turns in every which direction, making sure that no one is staring at us. It's unnecessary. There's no one in the library besides us and Mr. Ponce.

On the paper, in the neatest writing I've ever seen are the words: **_I miss you, Alice._**

Tears roll down Alice's face as she reads the note. I watch Edward watching his sister. His eyes are again changing colors. He immediately starts writing again. **_I love you, Alice_**, appears right under his previous message.

Alice whispers back that she misses and loves him. I want to leave the two alone, but I'm captivated by how they interact. I lean over the table again to read what Edward's written.

**_Don't worry about the Jasper thing. Emmett knows. Mom and Dad do too, but they're okay with it. They understand you need someone right now._**

"They know?" Alice reproaches. It's a harsh whisper that happens to catch Mr. Ponce's attention. Edward quickly drops the pen onto the table. It would be hard trying to explain a floating pen. Mr. Ponce promptly shushes us and goes back to reading his book. Edward picks the pen up again.

**_Yes, but don't worry. I trust you. We trust you._**

Alice blushes and looks down at the table. She traces the graining of the wood with her perfectly manicured fingernails. She looks up at me and smiles. She even thanks me. I don't know why she does, but I accept it nonetheless. I look over to Edward who's writing on the paper as quickly as he can.

**_Alice, how are you? Honestly?_**

**_Don't give me a generic answer, either. I'm your brother, I'll know._**

"Do you guys want me to leave, so you can talk in private?" I suggest and they both reply "no," but I ignore them. Instead, I get up and walk away to look for some books.

It feels weird to be sitting there as they talk. I don't belong there, in more than one way. This is a family affair. They need to talk, Alice needs some closure. She needs a chance to say goodbye. I don't need to be there; I don't belong there.

That's the real reason why I get up from the table.

I walk up and down the library aisles, my eyes and hands skimming the leather bound books that I'm so familiar with. Titles like _Jane Eyre_ and _Pride and Prejudice_ catch my eye. I try reaching for a ratty looking copy of _Romeo and Juliet_, but I can't reach it, but Edward hands it to me, startling me in the process.

"Edward! You scared me! Where's Alice?"

"She left; the bell's about to ring."

"Oh, I should go check this out and get to Biology." I head over to our table, but Edward grabs me by my elbow and halts my movements. Even through my sweater, I can feel how cold he is.

"Bella," Edward sternly says, intently looking straight at me. I stop breathing for a few moments, my mouth left gaping open. I don't say anything; I just stare back at him, mesmerized by him.

"Why did you get up from the table?" _Why did I know that was coming?_

"I–" I start, but Edward cuts in. "Be honest, Bella. Tell me why you _really _left the table."

I clear my throat, "I wanted to give you an Alice some privacy."

Edward glares at me as his eyes are turning pitch black, and for the first time, I'm actually afraid of him.

"I said be honest, Isabella. That's not the truth, and you know it. At least that's not the _whole_ truth. I don't understand why you don't see how amazing you are, how charismatic, and special you truly are. You had every right to be sitting there with us, and for some reason, you think you didn't, because you think we're so much better than you, when we're not. If we were to look at the situation, really sit there and nitpick, we're the ones who don't have the right to be sitting with you," he speaks through clenched teeth, but towards the end, his voice is softer, and his eyes go back to green.

I gulp loudly, finally taking in a much needed breath. I'm speechless, confused, and so unbelievably overwhelmed by the urge to cry. No one's ever said anything like that to me, besides my parents. I don't know how to react, so I just walk away in a huff, dropping the book to the floor.

_How dare he lie like that?_

"Bella!" he shouts, but I continue walking to the table. I can't bear to look at him, especially after what's he's said. I don't even know how to react to his eyes turning black. What did that mean? Why did his eyes turn pitch black? Did that mean he was angry? _That makes sense. He looked like he was going to kill me back there._

"Bella!" Edward shouts again, pulling me back down to the back of the aisle.

"Say something, Bella. Anything?" He's pleading as he holds my hand.

"You're eyes turned black," I stoically respond. I know the expression on my face is terse; I can feel the furrow in my brow.

"Black?" he quizzically asks.

"Yeah, pitch black. I thought you were gonna kill me for a second. I was afraid."

His eyes widen. He takes a deep breath and pulls me into a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. That was not my intention." He pulls me away from him, his hands still on my shoulders. The cold is seeping right through my sweater, and I savor the feeling. "I just, I just want you to see, to realize, to _know_, how extraordinary you are."

My heart skips a beat as he speaks.

I'm falling in love with a boy who doesn't exist. _Good job, Bella._The bell rings, and he lets go of me.

"Biology's next, right?"

"Yeah," I answer breathlessly. It's the only thing I can say.

_I'm falling in love with a boy who doesn't exist._

_Could my day get any worse?_


	10. Chapter Nine: Questions and Answers PT 1

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**** THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES QUOTES FROM CHAPTERS 7 & 8 OF _TWILIGHT_. ****

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Nine****:**

**Questions and Answers [Part One]

* * *

**

Waking up on a Friday morning is the worst feeling in the world. After a long week, the last thing anyone wants to do is wake up, especially on the day _before_ the weekend. The sheets feel warmer, and the atmosphere feels more comfortable. Everything about sleep feels better on Fridays, but of course, the cruel gods of fate, torture us by making us wake up.

_Curse the gods. I'm gonna sleep_.

Wrong. It's not the gods I need to worry about. It's a ghost. He's whispering relentlessly in my ear that it's time to wake up. He's also spouting nonsense about being late.

_What does he know? I never cared about being late before. And what the heck? The alarm clock didn't go off yet, at least wait until the stupid thing rings before attempting to wake me up. Oh crap. I have to sit with his family and friends at lunch today. I should pretend to be sick._

I start groaning in pain, moaning in phony agony, but Edward just chuckles. He starts to shake me, and I just groan louder.

"Bella! Wake up! Stop pretending to be sick. You're a terrible actress, and besides, my sister is expecting your presence at lunch today. It'll break her heart if you don't show up."

"Ugh," is all I manage to say as I pull myself out of the sweet, warm confine of my bed. _Why am I leaving you bed? Why?_I rub my hands over the soft comforter. _Oh sweet, beautiful, warm, comfy cotton heaven._

As if Edward could read my mind, "Bella, the bed will be here when you come home."

"Mhmm," another of my more intelligent responses is what he gets in return. He just shakes his head as I stand by my bed stretching. My body aches from being in the same position all night. Edward watches, smiling. I don't know why he's smiling, but it makes me smile. It's stunning when he does. It's almost like art, beautiful living art. His teeth shine, and his entire face lights up. He's absolutely beautiful.

_He's a ghost. He's dead. Why are you fawning over a ghost? This is_so_wrong. I'm falling for a guy who's dead. My life is a bad, supernatural soap opera._

"Are you nervous about sitting with my family today?" he asks while I collect my clothes. He's still smiling, practically beaming, thinking about me actually sitting with his family. _Why are you so happy about that? This is a bad idea. Terrible! This will be catastrophic._

"Nervous, of course not. Petrified is more like it," I answer honestly. His smile fades suddenly, and he glides across the floor toward me, the blue aura around him lighting the path. When he reaches me, he looks down. His gaze is unbelievably comforting, and he envelops me in a hug. I shiver as I always do when he touches me, but it's the most wonderful feeling I've ever felt. I love how the way the cold rushes through my body and just pierces right through my skin. It's literally breathtaking.

Edward pulls away, but he holds onto my shoulders. _Don't let go. Don't ever let go_, I mentally will him_._ He levels his face, so his eyes are right in my line of vision. They're green, but little streaks of golden-brown are starting to appear; he's upset. He takes a deep breath. I'm sure it's unnecessary, but I don't say anything about it.

"There's no reason you need to be scared of my family. Yes, Alice is pushy, Emmett is enormous, Jasper is kind of creepy sometimes, and Rosalie is pretty intimidating and–"

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" I ask, cutting him off and trying to wriggle myself out of his grasp, but he holds on tighter. His fingers are so cold on my skin that it almost burns.

"Yes, but you didn't let me finish," Edward chuckles, his eyes are stuck on me, his sparkling green right into my muddy brown ones. "Bella, they may be all those things, but they're human just like you and, well, just like you. They're not some greater kind of person, and you always seem to forget the fact that you're amazing. They will love you. They'll probably wonder why you haven't always been sitting there." He lets go and looks over to the window, walking the short distance to it.

I want to say something, come back with some witty remark, but nothing. The way he speaks to me is so sincere, so honest, that I find myself believing everything he says. I make my way to the door and tell him that I'm going to shower and get dressed. He nods his head my way, smiling before turning back to look out the window.

Edward Cullen is an enigma, a beautiful enigma.

**-X-**

When the bell rings to signal lunch, it's incredibly loud, almost deafening, but I think it's just because all my senses are working on overdrive. Throughout my morning classes, all I was able to do was think about lunch.

_How am I supposed to sit with these people? Everyone is going to wonder what's going on.__They'll probably think I'm paying them or worse, blackmailing them._

Edward does nothing but comfort me the entire time I walk to my locker. He reassures me that I have nothing to worry about, but I don't listen. All the possible scenarios of what can happen keep running through my head. I nearly crashed the truck into a mailbox this morning when I was thinking about it.

_What if I sit down and then they pull some trick on me?_

_What if I go to sit with them and they all decide to stand up and walk away?_

_What if I–_ but I can't finish my thoughts because Alice is walking toward me, her hand firmly intertwined with Jasper's.

I'm breathing hard with every step she takes.

_Inhale. Exhale_. _Oh man, this is actually happening. I'm gonna be sitting with the so-called in-crowd._

"Bella!" Alice's bubbly voice rings when she's next to me. I wave my hand as a greeting, not only to her, but Jasper, as well. He nods his head cordially and says hello.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella. Alice's hasn't stopped talking about you all week. Well, actually, you've been a frequent conversation for quite some time now," Jasper informs, much to my dismay.

_I'm a conversation topic? Great, they talk about how big of a loser I am._

I gulp loudly and furrow my brow, which doesn't go unnoticed by either of them.

"Oh no, Bella, not like that," Alice explains. "It's just that James and Ed–" Alice begins to defend, but stops once she feels Edward's hand in hers. He's wearing a pained expression on his face, almost as if he's willing Alice not to finish her sentence. If that's what he's trying to accomplish, it works because Alice lets go of Jasper and loops her arm with mine.

"Come on, Bella. I can't wait to introduce you to everyone."

I grimace and sigh. Jasper, who's walking behind us, tries to assure me that it will be fine. Oddly, enough I feel much calmer. I turn to look at Edward and find him walking beside Jasper. What I see surprises me.

He's smiling, so widely, that he's biting his entire bottom lip trying to suppress it. His eyes are positively lit up, wide and sparkling, and the greenest I've ever seen them. I stare pointedly at him for a bit, and all he does is keep smiling and shrug his shoulders.

Jasper holds the cafeteria doors open for Alice and I. It's a bizarre occurrence since most people never hold the door open for me. They tend to ignore my existence. I tend to walk into many closing doors.

I stop where I'm standing, and I quickly unlatch my arm from Alice's. Jasper, Alice, and Edward all turn around and stare at me. I'm positive that my face is showing exactly how I feel.

I'm petrified! Scared out of my mind!

_Everyone's staring at us. At me. If I just back peddle out now, they'll forget all about what they just saw._

I can feel everyone's eyes on us, all wondering what in the world I'm doing walking in arm-in-arm with Alice Cullen. I take a deep breath in and one small step back. I go to take another, but I'm stopped by Edward's cold hand on my lower back.

"Don't even think about it, Bella," he says. His voice is severe and demanding, and his gaze is just as firm. "Ignore everyone else. Think about Alice. It'll really hurt her feelings," he goads.

_Guilt trip, much. Did he have to bring Alice into this?_

I bite the inside of my cheeks to stop myself from telling Edward off. Instead, I sigh and walk toward Alice. She smiles brightly at me and joins her arm with mine.

_It's only forty minutes until this nightmare's over, and then on Monday, we can go back to how everything is supposed to be._

Walking though the cafeteria to _their_ table in the middle of everything is unnerving. All eyes are on us, and I can hear all the hushed whispers echoing off the walls. It's like a scene from one of those generic teen movies when the loser sits with the cool kids, and they play a trick on them, and everyone bursts out laughing as the loser runs out crying.

_Oh man, is that what's happening? Did I wear running shoes today?_

Alice senses my nervousness. She turns and smiles. She even squeezes my hand to comfort me. Jasper is stuck walking behind us. When I turn to look at him, I see him rubbing curiously at his shoulder. I can see Edward's hand resting on it.

When we approach the table, all the heads instinctively turn towards Alice and Jasper when they greet everyone. They all begin their hellos but stop mid breath once they see me. I get looks of shock, confusion, contempt, and joy? That last one I'm not too sure about, but that guy James is smiling at me, waving hello hysterically.

"Everyone this is Bella Swan. Bella, this is everyone," Alice introduces me. It's all a bit strange since I've technically known all these people since elementary school, but this is the first time I've ever spoken to them.

_Actually, I haven't said anything, yet._

Emmett and Rosalie are missing, but Jasper lets me know that they'll be in shortly. They're apparently always late to lunch. I hear Edward chuckle behind me as I grimace, realizing what Jasper is trying to discreetly address.

I sit down in what would be Edward's chair, between Alice and where Emmett will sit when he arrives.

"So, Bella," James begins to say. He's the first person to say something besides "hi" or "hey."

"What brings you to our table?"

I stare wide eyed at him. I run my hands through the front part of my hair and lower my gaze to answer him.

"Alice asked me to sit here. If you prefer that I don't, I can leave," I meekly answer, but it's still loud enough for anyone close to me to hear.

James lets out a laugh that sounds downright menacing, almost like a witch's cackle. Alice just turns to me as does Jasper.

"Bella, why would you say that?" Alice asks, placing her hand over mine. Edward's hand finds its way onto my shoulder. "Bella," he whispers.

"Yeah, Bella. If Alice invited you, she's obviously thinks you're awesome enough to sit here," Emmett says startling me. I didn't even realize that he and Rosalie had walked into the cafeteria.

"Hi, Bella. I'm Emmett," he introduces himself, sticking his hand out for me to shake. I shake it, hesitantly. His hand is about three times larger than mine. He smiles when I do and puts his arm around Rosalie, introducing her to me.

"This is my beautiful girlfriend, Rosalie."

She smiles and playfully smacks his arm, kissing his cheek before addressing me.

"Hi, Bella. It's nice to talk to you finally," Rosalie says, staring at me. It almost seems like she's glaring, though I can tell it's not meant to be a bad thing. Edward has told me that Rosalie sizes people up that way.

"Jeeze, Rose, do you have to say it like that?" Emmett groans as he steals a fry from her tray.

Before she can say anything, I defend her.

"It's okay. She's got a point. I don't talk to many people. Well, people don't talk to me."

Again, my voice is low. I'm terrified, and it's clearly evident because everyone keeps smiling at me, trying to comfort me, but there's also sad looks on people's faces.

_They pity me. How lovely?_

Rosalie seems to appreciate my comment because she smiles at me and reaches her hand out to mine. She squeezes it gently to let me know that it's okay and that I meet her approval.

Edward is sitting on an empty chair beside James and Victoria, who happen to be wrapped up in each other, feeding each other Skittles. He's watching their exchange, observing and calculating every little detail of it, looking confused by the whole thing.

"I can't believe _the_ Bella Swan is sitting down with us."

"What do you mean?" I ask, abrasively. I'm no one special, not enough to earn a response like that from anyone.

"Whoa, relax. I didn't mean anything by it. Are you always on the defensive?" He holds his hands up in front of him almost like a sign of surrender. All that's missing is a white flag waving above him.

"Sorry, it's just that. Well, actually I don't know why I responded like that. What did you mean by 'the Bella Swan'?"

He smiles grandly at me, which makes the dimples in his cheeks more evident. No wonder Edward called him a teddy bear. He may be as big as a house, but he's like a big kid, all smiles, dimples, and giggles.

"It's just Edward always want–" he starts to say, but stops almost immediately. He shivers violently, and I see Edward gripping Emmett's forearm tightly. He looks at me nervously, and let's go when he sees my face, and turns away from me, but I still manage to see. His eyes are nearly pitch black, but that small hint of green around his iris still shines through.

Alice, noticing Emmett's erratic shiver, looks toward me. Silently, she's asking if it's because of Edward. I nod my head, making it look like I'm stretching my neck. She just smirks and shakes her head from side-to-side as if she knows something about the exchange that I don't.

"Is it me or is it freezing in here?" Emmett asks, rubbing his forearm in the spot that Edward's hand had just been. Rosalie stares at him as if he's on something. Alice smiles knowingly. Jasper just keeps playing with the ends of Alice's hair, passing it from finger to finger, choosing to ignore Emmett.

Edward sits by one of the windows, staring out of it, with the most extreme look of longing I have ever seen. He doesn't turn to look at us, not even when Alice asks me my plans for the weekend.

"Bella, are you doing anything this weekend? Tonight?" she asks, bouncing in her seat. She sits like a little kid, one leg under her. The other leg doesn't even touch the floor. _Man, she really is short._

"Nothing," I answer honestly, playing with the crumbs of my cookies.

"Well, you should come with me and Emmett to Port Angeles tonight."

"Excuse me?" Both Rosalie and I ask, the invitation stunning us both.

"Why does she get to go to the 'Cullen Sibling' dinner? Neither Jasper or I have ever been invited. No offense, Bella. It's just that Edward and these two always go somewhere either on Friday or Saturday night and have dinner together. God knows what they do or talk about, but no one is ever allowed, and yet you, who has never even talked to us before today, gets invited. Something's up," Rosalie heatedly speaks up, straightening up in her seat. She glares at Alice and then Emmett, questioning them both with her eyes. Emmett tells her he has no idea about the invitation, but Alice takes matters into her hands.

"Shut up, Rosalie. You know very well why I'm inviting Bella. Just think about it carefully."

Rosalie keeps glaring at Alice, but it's as if someone flips a switch in her head, and all the gears start working because she gapes her mouth open slightly and lets out an "Oh" and stops glaring at Alice.

Rosalie doesn't look at me. Instead, she focuses on the chair I'm sitting in. She becomes somber and leans her head against Emmett's shoulder. The whole table gets incredibly quiet for a moment, until Mike walks by.

"Whoa, who died?" he asks, and everyone's heads pivot sharply in his direction, even Edward, who had yet to stop looking out the window.

Emmett's brows furrow. He stabs something on his tray with a fork and flings it at Mike.

"Some respect, Knucklehead."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, Cullen. You know that. You're brother was a good guy, most of the time," he jests, bringing up a story about some prank Edward had pulled on him during football practice. It seems to get everyone at the table talking again.

"So," Emmett and Alice both say turning to me. I shift my head from side to side to stare at the two Cullens who are starting at me, apparently waiting for some sort of answer. It's odd how different they both are. While Alice is a petite spitfire, Emmett is a huge teddy bear. Edward is a lovely mixture of the two. He really does fit perfectly between them.

Edward gets up from his seat and crouches beside Emmett staring at me just like his brother, sensing what was going on. He smiles at me knowingly.

"So, what?" I ask, confused. _What do they want from me?_

"Are you coming with Emmett and I to Port Angeles tonight?" Alice pleads, her voice sounding like that of a little girl. She looks up at me expectantly, her eyes wide and bright. Emmett is wearing a similar expression, and Edward's face is as still as stone. If I hadn't known better, I would think he was a statue.

"I don't know," I say.

"Bella, go. Please?" Edward asks, his eyes looking exactly like that of his siblings, and it nearly breaks my heart at how all three of them are staring at me like I'm some sort of messiah sent to save them. I sigh and drop my head forward.

"Okay."

**-X-**

The rest of the day passes by slowly.

In Biology, Mr. Banner does nothing but talk about bacteria. _Yes, bacteria._ On any other day, I would pay more attention, but it's Friday and later I would be having dinner with the Cullen's in Port Angeles. I'm not in the mood to be learning about E-coli.

In Gym, Coach Clapp lectures on the rules of badminton. It's the latest torture I'll have to go through. _Thank you public school system for all this emotional and physical damage._The good thing about the lecture is that I get to sit and listen instead of stumble and fall around the court for the entire period while everyone laughs at my lack of basic hand-eye coordination. The best thing is that Coach doesn't finish so the whole period is spent just sitting, but come Monday I'll be handed a racket. _I apologize to everyone in my path, starting now._

When class lets out, I nearly run over three people on my way toward the parking lot. Edward is already waiting for me in the truck. I didn't think he'd be there. He disappeared shortly after lunch.

"Hey Edward," I greet him, as I climb into my truck, carefully placing a bit more of my coat over the spring that sticks out near my left thigh. He nods his head my way. That's when I notice something foreign in my car.

There's music playing from my radio, but it's not my radio.

It's a brand new digital radio.

"You got a radio for my truck?" I ask incredulously, letting my fingers lightly brush all the buttons on it. Edward, who's been abysmally upset all day, actually looks happy watching me, but I ruin it by swatting at his arm. It hurts like hell.

"Ow," I screech, clenching my hand with the other. Edward looks upset and grabs my hand. He rubs it for me, and again I take pleasure in the cold that seeps from him into me. I'm especially appreciative of it right now because he's staring at me in such a way that my whole body feels as if it's on fire.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he apologizes, still rubbing my hand.

"You didn't do anything, Edward. I'm the one who hit you. I should've know better. You _are_ a glacier."

He laughs and lets go of my hand. He grabs my backpack and puts it down by his legs.

We drive off in silence to the sounds of Tchaikovsky playing through my speakers. Every few blocks, I sneak a peek at Edward, and each time our eyes meet. I look away hastily, blushing furiously.

"Thank you for the radio, but you really didn't have to," I say, breaking the silence.

"Well, if I had known that you'd react by hitting me, then I wouldn't have gotten it for you. I thought you'd like it, but I see that you don't," he voices dolefully.

"No, I love it," I protest. "I just hate when people buy me things. There's no need for that. There's no need to buy me anything." _I haven't asked for anything for Christmas or my birthday since my mother died._

"If it's any consolation, I didn't buy it. It was a gift from my parents. I was planning on putting it in my car."

"It's a little better, but still. I'd feel better if you would take it out, and let me give it to Alice," I suggest, but he shakes his head.

"No, I want you to keep it. Something to remember me by, you know," he whispers.

_So that's what this is all about. He's afraid people will forget about him. His demeanor during lunch makes sense now._

"I could never forget about you, Edward. Plus, who knows, you might be around for a long time for all we know," I say. I hope it comes off as comforting. I smile at him as we stop at a red light. He smiles back, his eyes shining brightly, and immediately the fire in my blood ignites again.

I stop at the supermarket to buy some things to prepare for Charlie's dinner. I decide to make lasagna that way I can just leave it in the oven for him. With Alice and Emmett coming by at five to drive to Port Angeles and Charlie usually getting home around five-thirty, it provides me with enough time to make it.

"I can't believe I'm going to have dinner with your brother and sister," I nervously admit, griping the steering wheel a little tighter as we drive away from the supermarket.

"Why? They like you. I told you they would. Everyone liked you," he smugly answers. He taps his fingers along the dashboard like it's a piano. He stops when he notices me staring. "Oh, how rude. Go ahead and change the station if you want, Bella. You probably hate Classical music." He goes to change the station, but I stop him.

"I like Classical music, especially this song."

"You know who this is?" he asks and is clearly surprised.

"Yeah, Debussy. My mother used to play 'Claire de Lune' on the piano when I was younger. It was one of the only pieces she actually knew how to play from beginning to end. When I was ten, my mother got me a jewelry box for my birthday. You may have seen it in my room. It's blue with a boy and girl painted on it, sitting by a lake under the glow of the twilight. It plays this song. I haven't opened it in years."

Edward goes to change the station. I stop him.

"Don't!"

"But you just said–"

"It's okay. It reminds me of my mom."

We both look away and sit silently in the car for the next five minutes. It's around three thirty when we actually get to my house.

I start to prepare dinner for Charlie. Edward helps me by cooking the pasta as I cook the meat and prepare the ricotta. We work in silence. We try to avoid each other as best we can in the tiny kitchen, occasionally bumping into the other and laughing.

It's around forty-thirty when I place the lasagna in the oven. I head off to get ready, but not before asking Edward if I have to dress well for dinner.

"No," he answers. He assures me that it's just a casual thing at the Italian eatery in Port Angeles. The three of them had been going every weekend since Emmett was thirteen. Apparently, he was the one who suggested it. When they were younger, either Carlisle or Esme would drop them off and pick them up, but once Emmett got his license, they had been driving themselves.

After putting the lasagna in the oven, I call Charlie at the station to let him know that I would be going out to Port Angeles with the Cullens. Surprisingly enough, he doesn't question me. He knows the Cullen kids are "good kids" as he often says, but I think he also sympathizes with them for their loss. We both know how hard it is to lose a family member. The thing that surprises me most is that he doesn't even ask me why I'm going. He doesn't even mention the fact that I'm hanging out with people. I let him know about the lasagna in the oven, and he tells me that he'll be home twenty minutes after I leave, so I don't have to worry about the house going up in flames before he gets there. He tells me that he loves me and to call him when I'm on my way home.

Edward stays downstairs as I get ready for dinner. I know he said that I didn't have to get dressed up for it, but a nagging feeling in the back of my head keeps telling me to at least attempt to look half way decent, especially since Alice has the tendency to look at what a person is wearing.

I pick out a simple white blouse and a nice pair of denim slacks with a pair of flats I haven't worn since some dinner Charlie forced me to attend in Seattle. I attempt to tame my hair, but it doesn't cooperate. I even dabble with some makeup, just a little mascara I had bought and never used. I used to watch my mother put on mascara. I was fascinated with how the little bristles painted the lashes long and curled them. I finish right when the doorbell rings. Quickly grabbing my bag and coat, I nearly hurl myself down the stairs, tripping over the last one, but Edward catches me.

He holds on to me longer than he probably should, but I don't complain. _Why would I?_He's holding me so close to him, and though he's hard to the touch, I can't help but love the way he feels against me.

"Are you okay?" he asks. All my motor functions seem to have shut down. I nod, and head to open the door. I'm greeted by an upbeat Alice. _What else in new?_

"You look nice," she says, grabbing onto my hand and pulling me out of the house. As I lock the door, I think I hear Edward say, "No, you look beautiful," but it's just my head playing tricks on me because he's not even looking at me when I hear it.

Emmett greets me just as warmly as Alice, when I get into the backseat of the Volvo beside a waiting Edward. I buckle up. _I am the kid of the police chief. Got to obey the law, sometimes._

"You look nice, Bella," Emmett says, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

I thank him, and again I swear I hear Edward mutter beautiful, but I shake the feeling away.

Emmett drives faster than Charlie does, a lot faster, so we make it to Port Angeles in little under thirty five minutes. It's been a long time since I've actually hung out with people my own age. The whole way to Port Angeles, Emmett and Alice, tell me childhood stories. Edward happens to find some of the stories embarrassing. Occasional, I'll see him grimace, while his siblings laugh, but he joins in the laughter most of the time.

**-X-**

Port Angeles is a beautiful little tourist trap, much more polished and quaint than Forks. It's only six when we arrive and park the car.

We get out of the car, and Emmett tells me it's too early to go eat. The 'Cullen Sibling' tradition is dinner at seven at their special booth toward the back of the restaurant.

All their little traditions and habits make me smile. It must be great to have a sister or a brother, to have someone you can talk to and confide in.

"Umm…do you think I could head over to the bookstore for a while before dinner?" I ask them, preparing myself for them to say no, but they both say "sure."

"Do you have a phone, just in case you lose track of time?" Alice asks.

"No, I have a watch though. I'll make sure to look at it constantly. I shouldn't be very long anyway. I just want to find something new to read. I've read everything in my house at least three times already."

Emmett laughs. I ask him why he's laughing, and he just laughs some more.

"I knew you read, but jeeze. Ever thought to watch some television or play video games," he answers in typical teenage boy form.

"Yes, but the thing about reading is that you can lose yourself in another world. You can create your own world in your head. When you read, you can become that character and read the story as the character. It's better than television," I assert proudly.

Both Emmett and Alice stop in their tracks and whip their heads in my direction. I stare wide-eyed at them, wondering what's going on, shaking my head as a way of asking what.

"You sounded just like Edward," Alice says timidly. Emmett nods his head slowly awed by the revelation.

"Yeah, dude. You sounded just like him. He used to say the same thing to me every time I'd fling a book out of his hand and shove an X-Box controller into it."

"Oh," is all I manage to say.

I walk away swiftly waving back towards the two stunned Cullens and head toward where the book store is. It's been a while since I've actually visited Port Angeles, but I still remember where everything is.

Edward accompanies me for a while, but I tell him that he should go be with his siblings. He argues that they can't see him, so there's no point. He says that I shouldn't walk around alone, but I still manage to persuade him to watch over them.

As I walk down the familiar boardwalk, I watch my shadow that the street lamps cast. I was always so fascinated by my shadow when I was a kid. I would chase it, but only my mother was able to catch it.

When I finally find the bookstore, it's closed for the night. _Well, there went that plan. I still have forty minutes to kill._

I decide to head down to the docks where Charlie used to take me when I was younger. He always had Sunday mornings free. We would wake up early and drive down to the docks. We would spend time watching the boats come in with all the fish. There were small fish, and big fish, there were even red and blue fish. _Did I just quote Dr. Seuss? Man, how many times did Charlie read that to me?_

Charlie would point everything out to me, letting me know all the names of the fish, how someone would go about catching them, and even introducing me to some of the fishermen he knew. I loved Sunday mornings. After mom died, we've never gone back. I really do miss it.

Walking down the boardwalk in the other direction, I walk by all the familiar storefronts with their frilly banners and bright neon lights.

Port Angeles really is a little slice of heaven.

I meander through the streets, hoping I that I'm heading in the direction of the port. I'm not exactly paying the most attention. The idea that I have to have dinner with Emmett and Alice keeps running through my head. I just hope that I don't knock over a cup or spill something on Alice. And on top of all that, I'm wrestling with thoughts of Edward and his behavior during the day. He kept cutting his siblings off when they were talking about him and murmuring things to me that I could barely hear. To top it all off, he installed a radio into my beat up, hunk-of-junk, truck.

I stomp along in a southerly direction, toward some glass-fronted shops where the lights are still on, but it's just a repair shop and a vacant space. I still have half an hour to waste before dinner.

Bypassing the windows, I realize as I cross the road, that I'm going in the wrong direction. All the traffic that'd been passing before has dissipated, and the buildings I'm walking by are all starting to look like warehouses. I decide to turn east at the next corner, and then loop around after a few blocks and try my luck on a different street on my way back to the boardwalk.

A group of four men turn around on the corner I'm heading to. They are dressed too causally to be heading home from the office, but they are too grimy to be tourists. As they approach me, I realize, they aren't too many years older than me. They're joking loudly amongst themselves, laughing raucously and punching each other's arms. I check my watch and see that I'm about to be late.

_That's what I get for walking around aimlessly._

"Hey, there!" One of the men calls as he passes by me. The one closest to him pauses in step, and the other two start to slow down. The closest of the men is heavyset, dark haired, and most likely in his early twenties. He's wearing a dirty flannel shirt opened over an even dirtier shirt, some cut off jeans and sandals.

"Hello," I mumble back, though I know I shouldn't; it's a knee-jerk reaction. I look away and walk away, faster than I was before.

One of them yells after me, telling me to wait, but I keep my head down and round the corner with a sigh of relief. I can still hear them chortling behind me. I look back down at my watch and realize I'm now five minutes late, and I'll probably be later since I don't know where I'm going.

I find myself on a sidewalk behind some warehouses, each padlocked closed for the night. I wander further down the street; way pass anything that a tourist of Port Angeles would want to see when visiting.

It's dark outside, but this part of town has almost no street lights, so it's even darker here. I can barely see my feet as I walk. I look up to see if I can find some sort of light source, turning in my spot to look, but as I peer over my shoulder, I realize with a shock that two men are walking quietly, twenty feet behind me. They're from the same group as before. Neither of these two are the one who spoke to me.

I turn my head forward at once, quickening my pace. A chill that has nothing to do with the weather makes me shiver. I cradle my purse tighter to my body, incase that's what the men are looking for. I glance back down at my watch, barely making out that it's already seven thirty.

_I wonder if they're out looking for me. If I scream would they hear me? Would Edward hear me?_

I think about "accidently" dropping my bag and running away, but a small voice in the back of my head warns me that that may not be what these men are after. I shiver just thinking about what they could want.

_What had I done to deserve this? I'm about to get attacked by two men, much larger than myself, and I have absolutely no way of defending myself. I should jump in front of this blue car, maybe they can help me._

I reach the corner of this street, sighing in frustration, as a swift glance reveals that its only a blind drive to the back of another building. I speed up even more, into a power walk of sorts, making sure to concentrate on the faint footsteps behind me. They seem to be further back than before. I think about running, but I'm sure these guys could catch me easily, and with my luck, I'd trip over my feet, three steps into the run, especially in these shoes.

I turn another corner, the steps of the men behind me are even fainter than before. I see two cars passing this way, so I assume that there must be more people around here. But again, it's all false hope, because when I turn the corner all there is a street lined with blank, windowless walls on both sides. From where I'm standing, I can see some street lamps and pedestrians, but they're all too far away to hear me if I scream because lounging against the western building, midway down the street, are the other two men from the group, both watching me with excited smiles, as I freeze dead on the sidewalk.

I'm not being followed, I'm being herded.

I pause for a second, and I turn and dart to the other side of the road, but those once faint footsteps now sound like loud stomping.

"There you are!" The booming voice of the stocky, dark-haired man shatters the intense quiet and makes me jump.

"Yeah," a voice calls loudly from behind me, making me jump again as I try to hurry down the street. "We took a little detour."

My steps have to slow now because I'm closing the distance between myself and the lounging pair. I take in a deep breath, ready to let out a good and loud scream, but my throat is so dry, I doubt that it'd be barely above a whisper. I grab my purse and hold onto the strap, and pull it to above my head as if it's a weapon.

"Stay away from me," I warn in a voice that's supposed to sound strong and fearless, but I'm right about the dry throat–no volume.

"Don't be like that, sugar," he calls, and the raucous laughter starts again.

I brace myself, feet apart, trying to remember through my panic what little self-defense I know. As all those thoughts run through my head, I see headlights suddenly flying around the corner, the car nearly hitting the stocky man, forcing him to jump toward the sidewalk.

I dive into the road–_this _car is going to stop, or have to hit me. But the silver car unexpectedly fishtails around, skidding to a stop with the passenger door open just a few feet from me.

"Get in," a furious voice commands.

And just like that all the worry and fear I'm feeling disappears as that voice sounds through the dark street.

_Edward._

I jump into the car, and it's just as dark in the car as it is outside. The tires squeal as he spins the car around to face north, accelerating too quickly, swerving toward the stunned men on the street. I catch a glimpse of them diving for the sidewalk as we straighten out and head for the harbor.

"Put on your seat belt," he commands, and that's when I finally realize that Emmett is driving the car.

"Edward, you _spirited_ Emmett?" I scream at him, stopping the urge I have to hit him. Breaking my hand is not on my list of priorities at the moment.

"Isabella," he growls, and I know he's furious. "What were you thinking walking this way? Those guys, they, they could've–I don't even want to think about what could have happened to you. Alice and Emmett are worried. I knew I should have stayed with you. Leave it to you to almost get killed in a town as small as Port Angeles."

He's gripping the steering wheel tightly, and it slowly grinds under his hands. We remain silent as we drive through the familiar, brightly lit streets reaching the restaurant, in no time. Alice pops up from her seat on the stairs of the restaurant. Her face is red from the cold, and I feel horrible for possibly getting her sick.

Stepping out of the car, she lunges at me, hugging me tightly.

"Bella, thank God, you're alright. We were so worried," she cries.

"She's fine now, Alice. It's okay, please stop crying," Edward tells Alice, but that only makes her cry more. He's forgotten that he's speaking to her, _really_ speaking to her.

"Edward," she sobs into Emmett's burly torso.

"Alice," he whimpers back, his voice wavering. He's in tears.

"Edward," I mumble, softly. "Edward, you have to separate yourself from Emmett."

"I know," he answers, still holding onto his sister as tightly as he can. I don't want him to stop holding Alice, ever, but he can't stay in Emmet.

"I love you, Edward," Alice declares, gripping Emmett's jacket.

"Love you too, little one," Edward responds, as he separates himself from Emmett. The blue aura slowly moves to beside Emmett.

Emmett shakes and picks Alice up, holding her to him.

"I felt him, Alice. I felt him," he screams out to Alice. There are tears spilling down his face. I never thought I'd see Emmett Cullen cry, but here I am watching it happen.

"I know," she says, turning to me, before speaking again. "Let's go inside. Bella and I need to tell you something."


	11. Chapter Ten: Questions and Answers PT 2

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Ten:**

**Questions and Answers [Part Two]**

* * *

As we climb up the stairs of the restaurant, I watch as Emmett tries to compose himself. He furiously rubs his eyes to remove any remnants of his tears. He interlocks his arm with Alice's, and she takes it, rubbing it like a mother would her child. Edward is walking right behind them, smiling wistfully as each of his hands finds a spot on his sibling's shoulder, respectively. I keep a three-step distance from them. Something about the scene screams Cullen-family-only.

Emmett holds the door open for Alice and I, holding it open just a little longer. He's wearing a tight-lipped smile, and I realize that he's holding the door open for Edward. If only he knew that Edward was already standing next to the host waiting for us.

"Alice! Emmett!" A small, elderly woman greets them as they approach the podium. They graciously and warmly greet her back.

"Good evening, Mrs. Compton. How was your week?" Emmett asks, genuinely interested. He's smiling brightly at her, though you can clearly see that today he's anxious to be seated quickly.

"Same 'ole, same 'ole. Mr. Compton is being as stubborn, as always. We're both very sorry to hear about Edward. He was a good boy; had his head placed firmly on those broad shoulders." She giggles and blushes, and both Alice and Emmett chuckle. From the corner of my eye, I see Edward make a face. Obviously, this isn't the first time, she's made a comment of this class.

_She's got good taste, that Mrs. Compton, and Edward does have really nice shoulders. Why have I never noticed?_

"Who's this?" Mrs. Compton asks, finally noticing my presence. I smile politely at her as Alice introduces me.

"Oh, this is Isabella Swan, but call her Bella. She wouldn't have it any other way. She's a classmate of ours," Alice answers, smiling brightly at me and Mrs. Compton. Emmett continues the mini-biography.

"She's Chief's Swan's daughter. I don't know if you know who Charlie Swan is?" he asks. To my surprise, her face lights up, as she looks me over.

"I knew I recognized those eyes. They're just like Renee's," she comments, grabbing my left hand, rubbing it comfortably. "When your parent's were in high school, they used to come all the time. Your father actually proposed to her on the patio out back. It was so sweet."

My breath catches in my throat as I feel the tears starting to well in my eyes. My mother had told me the story of her relationship with Charlie countless times. It was better than any fairy tale she would read to me. You would have never thought by looking at Charlie that he was such a sentimental and romantic guy.

"You're mother was an amazing woman, Bella. If you turn out to be half the woman she was, the world will be a good place," she remarks, squeezing my hand tightly, before letting go. I can feel the tears slipping down my cheeks as she collects some menus and leads us to our table. Alice and Emmett follow quickly. I walk slowly, keeping my head down the entire time.

"Bella, she's right you know," Edward whispers next to me, ducking down to wipe at the tears. "You're already amazing. I only hope I'll be able to see just how incredible you become."

I halt my steps and look up to see his face, but he doesn't stop. He continues to walk over to the table. _Did he—did he just call me amazing?_

"Bella?" Mrs. Compton's address me by poking my shoulder. "What are you still doing standing here? Emmett and Alice are already seated and waiting.

I shake myself out of my Edward-induced stupor and walk the last few steps to the table, making sure not to trip over any obstacle or my own feet, to be honest. I sit down across from Emmett and Alice in what I could only assume was Edward's seat. I twiddle my thumbs nervously as I feel a cool breeze brush pass my elbow. I turn my head to see Edward sitting beside me. He had been standing behind his siblings when I sat down.

Emmett quickly scans the menu, deciding what he wants to eat, before I can even open mine. The second he closes his menu and places it back on the table, he crouches forward and asks the question I know he's being dying to ask since he was outside.

"How?"

It's a simple question. One word. One request and I can't provide him the answer. I can't even provide myself the answer.

"I don't know. Honestly, I don't. I wish I did. I wish I could give you an answer, but I can't."

"So, he's really here?" he asks, looking to Alice for reassurance. She nods her head and pulls a piece of paper and a pen from her purse.

"Write something down, Em," Alice instructs him as she passes him the supplies. Edward grins at his sister's quick thinking. He takes it hastily, nearly pulling Alice off her seat from the quickness.

"If he's really here—as you two say he is—then he'll easily answer this." Emmett quickly scrawls something on the paper, keeping it hidden from both Alice and I.

I watch Edward grab the pen and paper, and Emmett's eyes open as wide as saucers. He gasps and leans forward, eyeing the floating pen in awe. I look around to make sure no one can see, but again Alice has thought things through because we're sitting in the far back corner, and Edward and I have our backs facing the restaurant.

"I—I can't believe this is real," he whispers in disbelief. His eyes never leave the mysterious floating pen. Edward continues writing, but he's smiling mischievously as he does. It makes me wonder what Emmett asked.

"What did you ask him, Emmett?" I get curious and ask.

"Why do you want to know?" he nervously fires back, his eyes still watching the pen glide across the paper.

"Well, Edward's smiling, and now he's laughing."

"Figures he would laugh. Wait—you can see him?" he asks. His entire upper body springs up from the crouch he's in.

I nod fervently as Edward slips the paper back. I can see the imprint of his elegant script from the back of the paper as Emmett lifts it up from the table slowly. He looks as if he's afraid of what it says. It takes, what feels like an eternity, for the paper to make its way off the table.

Emmett's eyes shift to Alice and I, to make sure we can't read it, and then they shift back to the paper when he deduces that we can't. He skims over the words hurriedly, and his eyes wide with each line. He crumbles the paper up immediately afterwards and stuffs it into his back pocket. Alice's makes a go at trying to retrieve it, much to Edward's delight, but Emmett's swats her hands away, warning her that she would regret it.

"What did you ask him?" she inquires, all whilst pouting up at him. Emmett turns his head away so he won't have to look at her. "It's none of your business, little one." Alice scoffs at the nickname and makes another attempt at getting the paper, but Emmett quickly pulls it out of his pocket and shoves it in the front pocket farthest from her. He gives her a look that reads "just try it." She returns it with a glare. Edward just laughs watching the exchange.

"These two are always like this. It's ridiculous," he comments, chuckling lightly as he leans back in his seat. His eyes are bright as he watches his siblings. It's such an incredible expression. There's so much love and adoration visible in his eyes. It's beautiful, really. _Who am I kidding? He's the one who's beautiful._

"What did he ask?" I whisper, and Edward murmurs something about a code between brothers. I glare at him much like Alice did with Emmett, and he glares right back. The exchange doesn't go unnoticed by the other Cullen's at the table.

"Are you glaring at my brother?" Alice asks. There's a hint of amusement evident in her voice.

"I'm trying to get him to reveal the mystery question, but apparently a brother code or some nonsense has been instilled."

Edward chuckles beside me, and Emmett looks smugly at both Alice and I. In the blink of an eye, Alice's whole demeanors changes. She goes from being upset at being left out of the loop to extremely confident. Both of the Cullen men tense up. Alice lets out a whisper of a laugh. It's beyond devious. At any moment, I'm expecting her to roll up her sleeves and clock her brother in the face.

_Wouldn't that be a sight to see? Little Alice beating her giant of a brother._

Both Emmett and Edward seem uneasy.

"What's wrong?" I ask, but the two ignore me and stare at Alice, who continues to smirk smugly back at them.

"Okay," she begins, "Two can play at this game, boys. You don't want to tell me what's on that paper. Fine. I'll just—I don't know—let's see. Bella—"

My head snaps in her direction as does Edward's. His eyes narrow in on Alice. It's too bad she can't see him. I'm sure she wouldn't say anything, if she could see the look he's giving her. Even Emmett has turned to face Alice, already expecting the worse.

"Bella," she repeats.

"Ye—yes," I stutter, nervously.

"Don't!" Both Edward and Emmett call out, though Alice only hears Emmett. Edward's positively petrified. I've never seen him look like this.

"Did you know," she starts, her eyes shifting to where she can only assume Edward is and then back to me. "That Edward has—"

But in the grand fashion of the last few days, Alice is interrupted by the waitress, a young girl who I recognize from my Spanish class. She politely asks us each what we want, and just as quickly, walks away.

"That was fast," Emmett comments obviously trying to change the subject from before the interruption. Edward nods accordingly.

"That's because Edward isn't here for her to flirt with," Alice explains, and Emmett chuckles. Edward rolls his eyes, and for some reason I feel a dreadfully painful pang in my chest.

"What do you mean?" I ask, stupidly. The pain only increases, and I can't figure out why. I can feel the heat running through my body, and I'm silently praying that I'm not as red as I feel. No one seems to notice, but Edward groans, and Emmett decides to laugh.

"So innocent," Emmett mumbles. "That girl—I don't even know her name—always serves us," he begins to explain, but Alice cuts him off. "She flirts relentlessly with Edward, and he barely even acknowledges her presence. Yet, every time we're here, she flirts with him. It's kind of pathetic. She doesn't seem to get the hint."

"What's _pathetic_, is that Edward doesn't flirt back," Emmett scoffs and huffs. Again, the pain in my chest intensifies, and I can't figure out why.

"Emmett, he was dating Victoria. What's wrong with you?" Alice answers, smacking Emmett's arm.

"Please," he whines. "Even when he wasn't dating her, he never flirted with anyone else. It was like no other girl ever caught his interest."

Everyone's actions stall as I watch Edward grab a napkin from the dispenser and begin to write frantically. He's writing so hard that he's scratching and breaking the flimsy napkin in the process.

Emmett and Alice watch intently. I can tell that both of them are holding their breaths. Edward slides the napkin into the center of the table and the three of us all lean in close to read it.

**There was only one girl I was interested in, and she never spoke to me.**

Emmett and Alice simultaneously smile and roll their eyes. I just remain quiet trying to decipher the message. What girl could he be talking about? _Honestly, what girl would be foolish enough not to speak to Edward Cullen? What a stupid, stupid girl!_

"That brings me back to what I wanted to say before," Alice begins, but once again she is interrupted by the waitress carrying our dinner. She huffs, frustrated. Edward glances up at the girl and smiles in relief. Alice obviously wants to tell me something embarrassing or something about Edward because every time she gets interrupted, Edward smiles in relief.

_And what a beautiful smile it is. But what could he be hiding? Did he wet the bed until he was ten or something? What could be so incriminating that he doesn't want me to know? _I make a mental note to ask Edward who the girl he was interested was, and what Alice and everyone else so desperately wants me to know.

I eat my mushroom ravioli in relative silence, but I keep my focus on Edward the entire time. He seems to be doodling on a piece of paper. Of course, Alice notices. Emmett is more preoccupied with the cheeseburger he's devouring.

"So, Bella, I was wondering why is it that I never see you hang out with anyone?" Alice asks, and Emmett seems to have the same question because he swallows the bite of food in his mouth and gives a head nod in my direction and says, "Yeah, why is that?"

All three Cullens are staring at me now, and it's nerve wracking. I can feel their stares as I keep my eyes on the ravioli I'm shoving around on my plate. I don't look up as I answer.

"I don't know. It's just always been that way."

The table grows silent as I eat a piece of my ravioli. I chance a look up at everyone and they all have the same expression on their face.

Pity.

They all pity me. _Way to kill a perfectly nice evening, Bella._

"Well that's going to change," Emmett speaks as he chews another French fry. Alice nods. "You going to sit with us at lunch from now ow," he demands, grinning the whole time so as not to frighten me.

"I don't think—" I start, but I don't finish because Edward makes what sounds like a grunt and begins to write another note down on a napkin. He slips it toward his siblings before I can see what he's written. They read the note. Emmett still looks shocked at the fact that Edward is actually present.

Both of them nod in the direction of where the note came and say, "No problem." I look to my left, to Edward, asking him with my eyes what the note said, but he ignores me.

The rest of dinner passes relatively slowly as Alice and Emmett share stories of their childhood. They love telling stories that are especially embarrassing for Edward. My favorite is perhaps a story about Edward and an older girl at the park. He had been about eight, so Emmett says. Edward argues that he was eleven. Apparently, Edward had been accosted by a thirteen year old girl who thought Edward was older because he was so tall for his age. Emmett makes kissy faces, imitating the girl. He recounts that the girl was blatantly flirting with Edward, who was clueless to it all.

"You have such great hair, Edward," he mimicked the girl, twirling a curl and giggling. He even bats his eyelashes at me. Apparently, when the girl had asked Edward who is teacher was and he answered, the girl realized that Edward was younger. She had been so mad that she shoved Edward off the slide he was sitting on. He apparently fell so hard that he started to cry.

"He was always such a crybaby," Emmett adds thorough his laughter. Edward just sits in the corner, silently festering in his anger. He's pouting like a little boy. _A beautiful, adorable little boy._

The waitress comes back to the table a bit after asking us if we want dessert. We all decline much to Emmett's dismay. Apparently, he wants to have a sundae, but Alice reminds him that he has practice the next morning, and that they still have to take me home.

Emmett pays for the meal, and as we walk out, I feel Edward brush pass me to hold the door open, but he stops himself. Emmett ends up being the one to hold the door open for us. However, Edward yanks the keys out of Emmett's hand, startling him. By the time we're down the steps of the restaurant, he's already waiting for us by the car, all the doors open and already started. We all look around to make sure that there is no one around who could have possibly seen him do this, but there is absolutely no one around.

"Dude, if I didn't know Edward was here, I would've thought someone had tried to steal my car," Emmett says as he makes his way to the driver's side.

"It's my car," Edward remarks from the backseat. He pats the seat next to him. For a second, I think to let Alice go and sit, but I decide to be selfish because I love the cold that radiates from him. _And I might love him—maybe—definitely. _

"Isn't this Edward's car?" I ask, once I get in the car. Edward laughs and murmurs something that I can't hear except "my Bella".

Emmett laughs as does Alice. "Did Edward tell you to say that?" Alice asks, looking over her shoulder to where I'm seated.

"No," I answer. It's not entirely a lie. He didn't _tell_ me to say it. He just thought it out loud.

"Okay, I didn't ask this inside the restaurant, 'cause I didn't want anyone to hear and think I'm some sort of freak, but how does Edward look like as a ghost?" Emmett asks, and I giggle. It's such a ridiculous question, but if I was in his place, I would probably ask the same thing.

"Don't laugh," he whines, staring at me through the rearview mirror.

"I'm sorry," I apologize. "He looks the same just a little more—" I turn to look at him, and he smiles timidly. "Transparent."

"Like see through?" Emmett asks, and the rest of us burst out laughing. He tells us all to stop laughing.

"It's not funny. Stop laughing, and tell Edward not to make that face. I know he's making it!" Emmett cries out as he stops at a red light. I turn to Edward again, and he's making this face completely wacky face.

"You just did. He can hear you, Emmett. He just can't answer."

"Weird," he elongates the word as he drives off again.

"Is he making the face?" he asks.

"Yes!" I respond, giggling.

"I knew it!" he shouts, slapping the side of the steering wheel, and we all laugh.

"So, how did you know you could see him?" Alice asks, turning to me. She offers me a piece of gum, and I take it, thanking her.

"Um…I literally tripped over him," I answer, honestly. Emmett snorts. I glare at him, though he can't see me because he's driving.

"No offense, Bella," he begins, "But I had gym with you last semester. You're not the most…graceful of people. So, saying that you tripped over Edward, doesn't shock me at all."

"I can't argue with that."

"So, you didn't freak out or anything?" Alice asks, curiously.

"Well, sort of, but not for the reason you think." She stares at me intrigued, goading me to continue. Even Edward looks interested in the answer.

"I was late, so I was running down the hall, and I tripped over his feet. He was sitting on the ground with his legs outstretched, and you know me. So, when I was getting up off the floor, I saw that I tripped on Edward. So, I started to apologize. I was terrified–"

"Terrified?" All the Cullens speak up in unison. It startles me, but I continue speaking, this time staring at my hands.

"Well, yeah. I was afraid that Edward was going to be angry, but then he started asking me if I could see him, and then I found out he was dead and now I'm here."

"Angry?" Edward asks, and I ignore him. I don't want to answer him, especially in front of his siblings.

"I think I would have freaked out, majorly," Emmett speaks up from his seat, turning right onto the main street in Forks.

"I have no idea why I didn't," I answer, and it almost sounds like a question. _Why didn't I freak out? Should I have freaked out?_

"So, what does it all mean? Alice questions, pulling a wrapper out to spit her gum out. "Are you some sort of medium?"

"Well, Edward and I found out that I'm a mediator, according to some literature we found. Apparently, I'm supposed to figure out why he died because he wasn't supposed to." Alice and Emmett gasp, turning their heads in my direction. We're already in front of my house.

"What do you mean?" Emmett asks, removing his seatbelt, so he can turn fully in his seat.

"Well, Edward took the police report from the station–" I don't get to finish because Emmett speaks up again.

"Edward broke into the police station and stole the police report? I knew you had it in you," he jests and both Alice and Edward roll their eyes.

"So what did you find out?" Alice asks, pleading for a real answer.

"According to Charlie's report, he suspects someone may have cut Edward's breaks."

"Who would do that?" Alice voice trembles as I watch her eyes water. Emmett instinctively grabs her hand and rubs the top with his thumb, trying to put her at ease, but it doesn't work.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out, Alice. I promise you, all three of you, that I will find out who did this, even if it kills me. I _will_ find out!" I declare, confidently, and immediately I hear Edward scoff.

"Bella, please be careful," Emmett pleads. "Don't get hurt, doing this. None of us want that, and if you need our help, we're here for you."

"I know that. Thanks. I should go now. I think I can see Charlie peaking through the window." I chuckle to lighten the mood, and it seems to work, though Alice still seems on edge.

"Thanks for coming with us, Bella. We'll see you at school on Monday," Alice and Emmett both say as I step out of the Volvo. I smile back at them and Edward as well. He makes to get out of the car, but I shake my head.

"Spend time with your family," I tell him, though I it's not I want. I know it's selfish, but I want him to come back with me.

"I'll be back in a bit," he responds, reaching out for my hand. I let him take it, and immediately I get lost in the cold. It feels so amazing on my warm skin.

"Good night everyone." I wave as I head up to the front door. Once I get inside, Charlie pops up from his seat on the couch and meets me half way to the staircase.

"How was your night, Bella?" he asks, happily. It's such a rare thing to see him smile, but it's definitely refreshing.

"It was good, Dad. I had fun. Emmett and Alice are great people," I tell him, honestly.

"That's great to hear, Bells. It's nice to see you hanging out with people. It's been a long time since I've seen you smile so much. I missed it," he remarks, morosely, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. It was so paternal and so un-Charlie like.

"Same, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow; I'm beat," I tell him and kiss his cheek as I start to go up the stairs, but I stop close to the top when he shouts back up at me.

"Oh, Bella, I forgot to tell you, I'm going fishing tomorrow, so I won't be back until sometime tomorrow night."

"No problem, Dad. See you tomorrow night, then." He chuckles and says good night as I close my door.

As soon as I enter, I remove my coat and shoes and jump spread eagle onto the bed, sighing in content. I really am exhausted. You never realize how much you love your home until you're away for a long period of time.

I slowly make my way off the bed, much to my body's protest, and to the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed. The entire time I'm in the shower, I think about dinner and whatever secret Edward might be hiding. Even as I brush my teeth, it's all I can think about. Who is this girl that didn't speak to Edward, and why doesn't he want me to know?

I walk out of the bathroom and enter my room to find Edward sitting in the rocking chair in the corner.

"I was gone that long?" he says, noticing my wet hair.

"I guess so. So, what did you do at your house?" I ask, crossing my legs on my bed.

"I _spoke_ to Alice and Emmett for a bit, but Alice looked drained after the conversation in the car, so I didn't stick around too long."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told her about the police report," I squeak as I speak, and he chuckles. He comes to sit down next to me. In the t-shirt I'm wearing, the cold radiating from him quickly works its way through my body causing me to shiver, but he doesn't move away. _Thank you. _

"Don't apologize, Bella. You did nothing wrong. She had a right to know." He turns to look at me and places his hand on my cheek. It startles me, but the cold washing over my body is quickly dissipating the heat that's starting to rise. My heart begins to beat frantically.

"What did you mean when you said that you thought I would be angry?" he whispers as he rubs my cheek. My eyes flutter close for a moment before I open them. He removes his hand from my face shortly after.

"Well, think about it from my position. When someone of my status, trips over someone of your level, it tends to get pretty nasty."

"Bella," he breathes out, "I'm not like that; I never was."

"I know that now," I tell him honestly. He shakes his head, smiling the entire time.

"What are you going to do tomorrow?" he asks as he gets off the bed so I can get under the covers. He lies down beside me once I'm under. Again, my heart begins to beat frantically.

"Probably get some housework out of the way. Do some homework. I don't really know yet. Maybe I'll just sleep in. Why? Do you want to do something?"

He shakes his head again, smiling. "You're always so concerned with others, Bella. You never stop to think about yourself. I admire your selflessness."

I scoff at him. _If only he knew how selfish I had been earlier._

"Really, Bella. You're incredible. I mean it." He stares right into my eyes as he speaks. "I'm so glad that you're the one who can see me."

I smile shyly at him, and I feel the blush starting to rise on my cheeks. He smirks. I blush even more.

"You're blushing," he states, biting his lower lip.

"I do that a lot. It's annoying."

"I think it's cute," he compliments. I blush even harder, and he rubs the back of two fingers along my cheekbones and down to the apple of my cheeks. The cold is soothing.

"That feels nice," I subconsciously say out loud. He chuckles.

"I like how warm you feel," he tells me, and I think my heart skips a beat.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything," he responds.

"Who was the girl you were talking about?"

"Almost anything," he chuckles, turning his head away from me. Oddly enough, I knew that was going to happen.

"Okay, well what did Emmett ask you?" He laughs loudly, and I'm so thankful for the fact that Charlie can't hear or see him at that moment.

"He just asked about his first kiss, that's all. I just happened to have written out everything he told me about it, leaving no detail unmentioned." I nod my head acknowledging his answer, and try to suppress a yawn in the process. I want to continue talking to him, but I'm sleepy, and he notices.

"Go to bed, Bella. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I want to keep talking to you," I whine, my eyes already shut. He laughs lightly and pulls himself off the bed.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, beautiful," he whispers, brushing his hand across my cheek.

**-X-**

Sleeping in on a Saturday is by far one of the best feeling in the world, well, was, until last night. The best feeling is Edward Cullen rubbing your cheeks calling you beautiful. I still can't believe he did that. Even as I dreamed last night, that moment kept replaying in my subconscious.

_Edward Cullen called me beautiful. Me. He called _me_ beautiful!_

Stretching after a deep sleep may possibly be the second best feeling in the world. There's nothing like a stretch to work out the stiffness from being sill all night.

As I stretch, my hand comes across a piece of paper. On the paper, in Edward's perfect penmanship it reads:

**_Bella,_**

**_The sun will be out today. Follow the trail to the woods, just south of the Forks, Quileute Reservation border. I'll meet you there. Remember when I told you I had something to show you, this is it._**

**_See you at noon._**

**_~Edward_**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Here Comes the Sun

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**** THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES QUOTES FROM CHAPTERS 10-12 OF _TWILIGHT_. ****

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven****:**

**Here Comes The Sun

* * *

**

I reread the note, twice. His handwriting is flawless and reminiscent of calligraphy. He's the only boy I know that writes well. I trace each of the letters slowly, feeling the indentations they've made on the paper. He likes to press down hard when he writes.

According to my clock, I have two hours before I have to leave, and even so, I rush into the bathroom and frantically go through my routine. Once out of the bathroom, it's no different.

I dress in a rush and waste time fidgeting with a tan sweater until it hangs right over my jeans the way I want it to. I sneak a swift look out the window to see that Charlie's already gone like I knew he'd be. He's long gone by now, and he's probably caught some fish already.

A thin, cotton-like layer of clouds, veils the sky, but you can already see streaks of sunlight peering through them. I wonder what the sun has to do with what Edward wants to show me.

I run down the stairs, carefully, so I don't tumble down them. My savior isn't here to catch me. It's odd how I miss him, though we've only really spoken for the last couple of days. Walking into the kitchen, I expect and secretly hope to find him, but having already read the note, I know he won't be there.

It's still a disappointment not seeing his tall frame working over the stove. I walk over to the freezer, pull out two frozen chocolate chip waffles, and pop them into the toaster. While I wait for them to cook, I grab some orange juice and maple syrup from the fridge.

I don't even bother grabbing a glass; I drink straight from the carton. There's only enough for one cup anyway. When the waffles finish cooking, the popping sound of the toaster startles me. I grab one, and up playing a game of catch with my hands. It's ridiculous how I never seem to understand that the waffles will be searing hot once they pop up. _I'll never learn._

I skip on the syrup and just eat the waffles, but I don't even taste them. I'm so nervous about Edward and the woods, that I don't even taste the usually delicious chocolatey goodness of my Ego waffles.

Right after, I go upstairs to brush my teeth. I head back to my bedroom and grab my coat. I see that I have a little over forty minutes to get to Edward, so I slow down—just a bit—but the butterflies in my stomach are still a flutter. I wonder what he wants to show me.

I take to the stairs, slowly, counting my blessings when I reach the bottom unscathed for the second time. _It must be my lucky day._ I check to make sure that the toaster is unplugged before I head out.

I trip on the last step of the front porch. _So much for my lucky day!_

The closer I get to my truck, the faster the butterflies in my stomach flutter. I'm beyond nervous; that much is certain. I feel like I'm going to puke, and I haven't even stepped into the truck.

My hands shake as I turn the ignition. The erratic shaking of the engine only makes the nausea worse, and the seatbelt is unusually tight against my chest today. It's like it's pressing down extra firm.

I grip the steering wheel tightly as I back out of the driveway. I drive through Forks to the sounds of Beethoven. Whatever radio station Edward had programmed yesterday is the one I'm listening to. On any other day, the music would be soothing, but not today. I don't even really hear it because my head is swarming with hundreds of different scenarios.

I'm soon out of the town limits, despite my overriding anxiety. Thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replace the lawns and houses of Forks. It's surprisingly difficult to concentrate on the road while thinking about meeting up with Edward. I compensate by driving carefully, as I turn right onto the one-ten, and for the next twenty minutes I barely breathe as I drive until the border of the woodlands that Forks owns and the part that borders the Quileute Reservation.

The pavement ends here.

The end of the road constricts into a thin foot trail with a wooden marker. I park on the narrow shoulder, and spot Edward off in the corner, waiting, leaning against a tree, staring right at my truck as it sputters turning off. He helps me get out of the car, pulling me by my hand, and instantly, the cold travels up my arm.

"Good morning, or should I say afternoon," he greets me, chuckling as he closes the door to my truck behind me. Immediately, I grow self-conscious, glancing down to make sure I haven't forgotten my shoes or my pants. _Sadly, it wouldn't be the first time._

"What's wrong?" I ask, and he continues to laugh.

"We match." I look at him and realize he has a long, tan sweater on, with a white collar showing underneath and blue jeans. I find it odd that he actually goes about changing clothes everyday when I'm the only person that sees him. His argument is that sister—if she found him wearing the same outfit consecutively—would kill him, if he wasn't already dead,.

I laugh with him, trying to hide my nerves, but he manages to see right through it.

"Are you nervous?" he asks, smirking.

"No," I answer, my voice betrays me by wavering. He chuckles again.

"Why are you so nervous?" he implores, brushing a piece of stray hair that's fallen into my eye, behind my ear. It only serves to make me more nervous.

"I—I don't know," I stutter as he pulls away. I take the opportunity to turn around and lock the door to my truck, simultaneously hiding the blush making its way up my neck.

"What's here?" I wonder, out loud, turning back around to find Edward leaning against the cab of my truck.

"A trail."

"I can see that. Wait, we have to hike for you to show me whatever is you have to show me?" I mentally praise myself for thinking ahead and wearing sneakers.

"Is that a problem?" He sounds as if he already expected as much from me.

"No." I try to make the lie sound confident.

"Don't worry," he comforts, "It's only five miles or so, and we're in no real hurry."

I gulp audibly. Five miles!

He takes a left, away from the trail, and I stare curiously, as to why he's walking through the trees instead of the cut out path.

"This way," he says, glancing over his shoulder at me. He has a backpack with him, which I can only assume are things for me, since he doesn't need any survival gear. _ I hope he's brought a first-aid kit. _

"The trail?" Panic is clear in my voice, as I hurry to catch up with him.

"We're not taking it," he answers, blandly, grabbing my hand to help me step over a broken tree trunk as we begin our hike.

"No trail?" I ask, desperately.

"I won't let you get lost," he promises, smiling.

_Great. Not only do I have to walk five miles, but I have to walk five miles of treacherous roots and loose stones, trying to twist my ankles or otherwise incapacitate me. This is going to be humiliating, and quite possibly, impossible._

We walk in silence for a while as I contemplate what it is he has to show me. I also keep my eyes firmly planted on the ground the further we walk. The last thing I need to do is fall in the woods. _It's like a Bella death trap out here._

"You're awfully quiet," Edward comments, as I watch the blue aura stop before me. "Do you want to go home?" he asks hesitantly.

"No." I walk forward, and he turns around and extends his hand out again. I take it, and hop over a hole in the ground, tripping up on a twig. Edward catches me easily, and I hold on for longer than I should, but I can't help it. I love the cold that pervades my senses. _Who am I kidding? I just love that he's holding me._

"Are you okay?" he asks, pulling my upright. I just nod my head and tear my gaze away, looking back down intently at the ground.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, impatiently, after we start walking again.

I lie again. "Just wondering where we're going."

"It's a place I used to go to when the weather was nice. It's also a good place because the canopy above is open. We'll get plenty of sunlight."

"What happens in the sun?" I ask, picking up my pace. I can tell I'm slowing us down. Edward keeps looking up at the sky, and I can see the clouds thinning.

"I have to show you," he chides, offhand, and I halt my steps. Quickly, he apologizes for his tone of voice.

"Sorry, Bella. It's just that I want to get to the clearing before the sun comes out."

"It's okay."

Again, we let the silence overtake us as we walk. The only sounds are those of the birds and the random twigs we keep snapping with our feet.

"We're getting closer," Edward speaks up, an hour later, breaking the silence.

"Okay," I manage to say.

This new part of the trail isn't as hard as I feared it would be. The way is mostly flat, and Edward pulls back any damp ferns and webs of moss aside for me to walk. He helps me over any fallen trees or boulders, easily lifting me up over them. His cold touch on my skin, never once, fails to make my heart thud erratically. We have only been on the trail for a little over two hours when Edward stops and sits on a boulder.

"How are you doing, Bella?" he asks, as I sit down beside him, trying to steady my breathing, but sitting next to him, doesn't aid the situation.

"I'm okay," I answer, and he knocks his shoulder into mine, gently, chuckling as he does.

"No need to lie. If you want to rest, we can. I have some water in the bag." He pulls it out and I take a large swig of it, getting as much water out of the bottle as possible. Most of the water is ice, but some of it still manages to slip down my chin. Edward swiftly wipes it away, the water crystallizing on his thumb.

"Whoa!" we both remark, looking at the little ice crystals on the tip of his thumb.

"That would explain why the water is mostly ice," I mention. He nods in agreement.

We start our hike once again, and I trip on a small pebble, this time I fall straight to the ground. Edward hears my cry of agony, and helps me up.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

"Why are you apologizing, Bella? It's not like you purposely fell."

"I'm not a good hiker," I answer dully. "I'm slowing us down."

"It's okay, Bella." He smiles grandly as he begins to walk again, this time much slower. I smile, noticing the change of pace. _How considerate_, I think as I wipe a drop of sweat traveling down the corner of my eyebrow.

It was warmer out now, warmer than it had been when I left Forks this morning. It feels almost muggy under the clouds. I pull off my sweater, and knot it around my waist, glad that I have though to wear a light, sleeveless shirt–especially if there are still miles left ahead of me. I groan, and Edward turns around, noting my change of appearance.

"Hot?" he asks, making to remove his own sweater, though I doubt he needs to. I stifle a gasp, as his arms come into view. He's also wearing a white, sleeveless shirt, except his is a button down that he's left unbuttoned, so that I can see the smooth white skin of his throat flow uninterrupted over the marble contours of his chest. _Yes marble! His chest looks like a slab of marble, soft, pale, beautiful marble._

I nod absentmindedly, trying to regain any semblance of rational thought. Godlike, is the only thing I can think to describe him.

We walk in silence. He asks me random questions. Nothing is overly personal. The hike takes most of the early afternoon, but he never shows any sign of impatience. I'm more than positive he can just pop into the spot he wants to be, but I'm slowing him down.

The forest around us is a boundless labyrinth of ancient trees, and I begin to get nervous, because how are we supposed to find our way out of here afterwards. Then another thought comes to me. I have to walk another five miles to get back to my truck! As if it didn't already suck the first time, now I have to repeat the journey. Edward looks perfectly at ease in the green maze, never seeming to feel any doubt about our direction.

The light that filters through the canopy above us transforms suddenly from the murky olive tone to a brighter jade. The sun has come out, just like he said. For the first time since we've entered the woods, I feel a thrill of excitement, which quickly turns to impatience.

"Are we there yet?" I tease, pretending to scowl. I just want to see this "unbelievable" feat already.

"Nearly." He smiles back at me, pointing to a spot up ahead. "Do you see the brightness up ahead?"

"Um, should I?" I ask, peering into the forest in the direction he's pointing. I don't see anything but trees.

He smirks. "Maybe it's something else I can do. I can see far distances." I nod as we continue to walk. After another hundred yards, I can see the lightening in the trees ahead, a glow that's yellow instead of green. I pick up my pace, my eagerness growing with every step. He lets me lead now, following quietly behind.

I reach the edge of the pool of light and step through the last fringe of ferns into the loveliest place I've ever seen. It's a meadow. It's small, perfectly round with wildflowers—violet, yellow and soft white. Somewhere nearby, I can hear the bubbling music of a stream.

The sun is directly overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. I walk slowly around the meadow, awestruck by its sheer beauty. I halfway turn to share this with Edward, but he's nowhere to be found. I search for him with sudden alarm. I spot him, still under the dense shade of the woods. He watches me cautiously, afraid to make a move toward me. At the moment, I remember what the beauty of the meadow has driven away from my mind—the enigma of Edward Cullen and the sun.

I take a step back toward him, my eyes alight with curiosity. His eyes widen, reluctantly. I smile to goad him to step into the sun, beckoning him with my hand afterwards because it doesn't work. I take another step toward him, but he holds his hand up to stop me. I hesitate, rocking on the heels of my feet.

He takes what looks like a deep breath and then he steps out into the bright glows of the midday sun.

I stare at him, and nothing looks different. He walks toward me with a serious expression on his face.

"What am I supposed to be seeing, Edward?" I ask, timidly. I feel ridiculous and like a failure for not seeing what he wants me to see.

"Take a good look, Bella. Take a closer look," he stands his ground, speaking firmly.

He's standing only a foot from me, and that's when I notice.

"Where's the–" I say, moving my hands in an outline of his body where the blue aura is supposed to be.

"Touch me, Bella."

"Excuse me?" I ask, clearing my throat.

He doesn't repeat himself; instead, he grabs my hand and places it on his chest. It's unnecessary. I could already feel it in his hand.

He's warm.

"Y–y–you feel warm," I stutter, letting my hand travel the planes of his chest. I grab at his shoulder, and it's soft.

"You're—you're so soft. You don't feel like a glacier." He nods. He feels alive, though I can't feel a pulse, he feels alive. His hair tousles with the gentle wind as it tangles mine, and ruffles the grass around us.

"How?" I ask, my voice breaking.

"I don't know," he finally speaks up, taking my hand and leading me to the center of the meadow. He sits and takes me down with him.

Hesitantly, as if I'm afraid that he'll disappear, I reach out a finger and stroke the back of his hand, where it lies within my reach. It's such an odd sensation, such a contrast from the past days. I'm so used to the frigid nature of his touch, that this feels so foreign, and at the same time, it feels incredibly normal.

"You have no idea, how wonderful that feels," he whispers, grabbing the finger in his hand, pulling my hand into his.

"What do you mean?" I whisper, breathlessly.

"This," he squeezes my hand gently, "The fact that I can hold your hand without having to fear that I might give you pneumonia, or worse break it. Do you know how hard it is to function when you can pretty much break anything? I'm so cautious now, and it kills me." He sounds as if he's in agony; it's heartbreaking.

"This is so weird," I murmur, but he hears me and chuckles.

"Tell me about it." This time I chuckle.

"How did you find out about this thing with the sun?"

"Billy Black saw me." I gasp, because I had been right. Billy had seen Edward; he had known.

"Wait, are you telling me that he can see you as well?"

"No, just in the sun. Quileute legends may have been watered down substantially from the past, much like the Brothers Grimm fairly tales, but they are all truthful. He knew I was dead when he saw me. Remember when I told you to ask Jacob about the legend, Billy was the one who suggested that I look it up, but all I found was the attenuated Disney-esque version of it. I thought perhaps Jacob might have known the real story, but he didn't. Billy also knows that you can see me, but before you worry, he's not going to tell your father or Jacob."

I relax my shoulders, once he's done speaking. So, Billy knows. Maybe he can help.

I don't speak; I can't really. Edward is playing with my hand, slowly letting his forefinger travel up and down from my palm to the tip of each of my fingers. The sensations startle me, causing me to shiver, and pull my hand away.

"Sorry," he murmurs. I look up in time to see his eyes, a sparkling shade of green. "It's too easy to be myself with you."

I place my hand back in his, and his eyes pop open, and he smiles.

"That's fine with me, Edward."

"You're amazing, Isabella Swan," he smiles, shyly.

"Just because you keep repeating that, doesn't make it true."

"Bella, you don't get it," he remarks, shaking his head.

"I don't. Care to elaborate," I suggest, folding my hands in my lap.

"I've never been so comfortable around someone in my entire life. I feel as if I can tell you my deepest darkest secret," he confesses, staring straight into my eyes. It's almost like he's staring into me.

"Which is?" I goad.

"Nice try," he chuckles.

"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours," I suggest, but he still refuses.

"No"

We lay down against the grass and just stare up at the clear blue sky. It's such a rarity to see in the Pacific Northwest. We're so accustomed to any facet of the color gray. I hear the grass under Edward ruffle as he turns his head toward me. I reciprocate by turning my head to face him.

We sit silently, looking into each other's eyes—trying to read each other's thoughts.

He breaks the silence first.

"I'm so glad that you're the one to be able to see me."

"Me too," I answer lowly, and he smiles timidly back at me, reaching a hand to brush my hair aside.

"You're so beautiful, Bella," he speaks clearly, unquestionably. I blush, but brush the compliment aside.

"You're wrong," I argue, and he scoffs.

"No, I'm not. You're gorgeous, exquisite, beautiful. You're pretty much perfect, Bella." I scoff this time, shifting my gaze from his. Though I don't believe him, his words still touch me. I blush profusely, and he rubs the back of his hands against my cheek.

"You're the beautiful one, Edward," I argue, and he shakes his head.

"Ask me what you really want to ask me?" He looks nervous as he says it, but it doesn't matter because I don't know what he's talking about it.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Remember last night, you wanted to ask me something. Go ahead, ask me?" Realization sets in.

"Who was the girl?" I ask, afraid to hear the answer. It's not as if he's gonna say me.

"The girl is incredibly intelligent–" he begins, but I cut him off.

"You're not going to tell me her name, are you?" He shakes his head as he laughs.

"You'll figure it out. Where was I?"

"She's intelligent," I condescend, and he chuckles.

"Right! She's intelligent, compassionate, helpful, and fearless. She's incredibly kind and selfless. She's beautiful, and when she blushes, it makes me smile because it's precious. I think I may love her, and always have. Figured it out yet?" he asks, and I'm taken aback, because everything he's said, is a description of me, give or take a few things.

"N–no," I stutter, and he smiles.

"Silly, clueless Bella. I'm talking about you," he says, and it's like a slow motion moment in a movie. My hearts fills and bursts all in one breath. I'm speechless.

"Bella?" Edward asks, nervously.

I close my eyes, willing back the tears. I don't even know why I'm crying. I rub roughly at the traitorous ones that spill down my cheeks, and Edward wipes them as well.

"Bella, please open your eyes. Please say something," he pleads, sitting us both up. I open my eyes slowly to find him staring straight at me, concerned.

"Why didn't you ever say anything to me?" I ask without realizing what I'm saying. At the moment, my brain has no filter, but I want to know. Why did he have to die for this to happen? Why was it my fate to fall in love with a ghost? Why was it my fate? In another life, this would have been possible.

"I don't know," he sullenly answers, turning away from me.

"Look at me!" I shout, boldly. I don't know where the sudden burst of confidence comes from. He turns to me, and his eyes are still green.

"Why?" I ask again.

"Because I don't deserve you."

"How so?"

"Didn't you listen to me? You're a good person. You're selfless and beautiful. You're amazing, and I'm not good for you," he concedes, shrugging his shoulders dejectedly.

"Thanks for making that decision for me," I scoff, getting up off the ground. Edward follows diligently. I walk towards the shade. When he reaches me, I grab his hand.

It's ice cold.

I let my eyes circumnavigate the blue aura around him.

"I wish you would have at least said 'hi' to me before this," I whisper quietly, looking down at out hands. The cold causes my finger tips to tingle.

"Me too," he answers, lifting my chin up. I smile tightly, and he mimics it. He rubs the backs of his fingers against my cheek, and I blush.

"I love when you blush," he says, smiling. I blush even more. "I love when you smile, and the way you bite your lip when you're embarrassed. I love how selfless you are. I love how you've helped Alice and Emmett. I love everything about you," he declares, his eyes focused on me the entire time.

"I—I feel the same," I choke on my words. I've never had anyone say such things to me, with such conviction. I've never felt this way before.

"Good," he proclaims, pulling me in tight. "I love how warm you are."

"I like how cold you are," I say, before the reality of the situation sets in again.

"I'm an idiot," Edward berates himself, sweeping his hand through his hair.

"Then so am I. I fell in love with someone I never stood a chance with and will never have the chance to love." He pulls me in again, tighter this time, yet still strained. I hadn't noticed it the other times, but his touch was tentative.

"I should have left long ago," he sighed. "I should leave now. But I don't know if I can."

"I don't want you to leave," I mumble, pathetically, staring down again.

"Which is exactly why I should, but don't worry. Unlike you, I'm essentially a selfish guy. I crave your company, your warmth. I'm not going anywhere, just yet."

I smile brightly at him, but he doesn't return it. I raise my eyebrow at the gesture.

"This isn't smart for either of us. It's going to hurt us in the end."

"It already does," I counter, and he nods in agreement.

"So it does," he says, still holding me close to him.

"Promise me something?" he asks, pulling me away from him. I look up at him, his eyes golden-brown in shade.

"Promise me that you won't do anything dangerous, Bella. Promise me you won't get hurt. I don't think I could handle seeing you in my position. The day in the parking lot haunts me. You could have been crushed," his voice shakes. "Promise me, Bella," he demands and pleads, and I nod my head. "I couldn't live with myself if you ever got hurt because of me. You don't know how it would torture me." He looks down ashamed.

"The thought of you, white, cold…to never see you blush again, to never see the flash of intuition in your eyes…it would be unendurable." He lifts his glorious, agonized eyes to mine. "You are the most important thing to me now."

He meets my eyes again, and they're surprisingly tender and back to their normal shade of green. My head is spinning with everything he's said.

At that moment, there are about three things I'm absolutely positive about. First, Edward was a ghost. Second, he has unfinished business that I have to help solve. And third, I'm unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him, and he with me.

"I promise," I say, and this time he smiles.

"Thank you," he responds, hugging me once more.

"If you love something, set it free; if it comes backs it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was," he murmurs, and I chuckle. The quote is written on a poster up by the English department office. Not until now, did it make sense.

I take his hand in mine, rubbing it gently. I let myself reach my other hand toward his face.

"Don't move," I whisper. No one could be still like Edward. He closes his eyes and becomes as immobile as stone, a carving under my hand.

I move slowly as I caress his cheek, delicately stroking his eyelid. I trace the shape of his perfect nose, and then, so carefully, his flawless lips. They part under my hand, and I can feel his cool breath on my finger tips. I want to lean in, to kiss him, like I've been dreaming about for days. I drop my hand when the thought enters my head, and he opens his eyes; they're pitch black.

I gasp, and take a step back out of his grasp.

"What's wrong", he asks.

"You're eyes are black again. Are you angry?"

"No," he answers.

"But–" His finger on my lips cuts me off. I shiver as my lips begin to tingle, and go numb.

"Let's get you home," he says, popping into the center of the meadow to grab the backpack before appearing before me again. I groan, looking back at the trail we've just come from, and Edward laughs.

"Can I show you something?" he asks, sudden excitement flaring in his eyes.

"Show me what? I thought you already showed me what you had to."

"Well, show you something I found out the other day. When I ran away from Billy Black after he saw me, I found out something."

"What?" I asks, and swiftly, he drops the backpack and grabs me and puts me on his back. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist.

"Edward please put me down! I'm sure I weigh a lot compared to the bag."

"Don't worry about it. Do you trust me?" he asks grabbing the bag so I can wear it.

"Sort of," I warily say.

"I'll take that. Bella, listen to me carefully, you're safe. Just hold on, tightly."

I grasp onto him as tightly as possible when he takes off into the woods. In a flash, we're by my truck.

"Exhilarating, isn't it?" His voice is high and excited.

He stands motionless and waits for me to climb down. I try, but my muscles don't respond. My arms stay locked around him while my head spins uncomfortably.

"Bella?" he asks, anxiously.

"I think I need to lie down," I gasp.

"Oh, sorry." He waits for me, but I still can't move. He laughs quietly and gently loosens my stranglehold on his neck. There's no resisting the iron grip strength of his hands. How hadn't I noticed that before today?

He pulls me around to face him, cradling me in his arms like a small child. He holds me for a second before he carefully places me on the springy ferns.

"How do you feel?" he asks.

"Dizzy, I think."

"Put your head between your knees," he suggests.

I try it and though it helps, it's not enough. I feel him sitting beside me. The moments pass, and eventually I raise my head. There's a hollow ringing sound in my ears.

"That wasn't the best idea," he muses.

I try to be positive, but my voice is weak. "No, it was very interesting." And it was. It felt like, what I can only assume would be a bullet being shot out of a gun.

"Hah! You're as white as ghost—no in fact, you're as white as me!"

"I think I should have closed my eyes."

"Remember that next time."

"Next time!" I groan.

He laughs; his mood still radiant.

"Show-off," I mutter.

"Open your eyes, Bella," he says quietly.

And he's right there, his face is so close to mine. His beauty stuns my mind—it's too much, an excess.

"I was thinking, while we sort of popped here–" he pauses.

"About trying not to kill me, I hope."

"Silly Bella," he chuckles. "No, I was thinking there was something I wanted to try." He takes my face into his hands, and I can't breathe.

He hesitates before suddenly his cold lips are pressed very softly against mine. I've never been kissed before but I'm pretty sure that Edward is in fact that best kisser there is. His lips hard, and cold against my soft, and warm is such a sweet contrast. My lips tingle as his move against mine. It's slow and gentle, and absolutely perfect. I'm so glad that no one's around to see as he pulls away, and I fall into him.

"Are you still faint from the travel? Or was it my kissing expertise?" He light heartily jokes.

"I can't be sure, I'm still woozy," I manage to respond. "I think it's a little of both, though."

"Maybe you should let me drive."

"Are you insane?" I protest.

"I can drive better than you on your best day," he teases.

"I'm sure that's true, but remember the whole 'phantom driver'."

"Please," he begs, but I don't budge, fingering the keys in my pocket.

"It's my car." Suddenly, a thought hits me like a ton of bricks.

"Edward, your car?"

"What about it?" he asks, confused.

"Whose car did you drive the night of the accident?"

"James's. Why?"

"James," I repeat, and with that, Edward suddenly becomes more translucent.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Entwined

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Entwined**

* * *

"Edward," I whisper. He keeps looking at himself, shuddering at his transparency.

"What happened?" he asks, confused. His voice is so low that I almost can't hear it.

"I was going to say this before, but I needed proof. I think that—" I begin as I lean against the cab of my truck. Edward doesn't look up, he just keeps examining himself, looking at each body part. He's studying the look and feel of it all. "I think that the closer we get to solving this, the more you—" I don't finish my sentence. I merely move my hand up and down to show him that I'm talking about how translucent he is.

I tilt my head down to avoid his gaze, now that he's stopped looking at himself. My heart is breaking as we stand there. I don't want him to disappear, not now, not after what happened in the meadow. It's selfish—incredibly so—but I can care less if we ever solve the mystery surrounding his death, except that he deserves an answer. He deserves to know who put him here_._

"But what did you say to make it happen?" he asks, frantically as he paces back and forth in front of me. It almost looks as if he's floating on the ground. It doesn't even look like his feet are touching it.

"All I said was James." I finally look up at him, and I wish I hadn't. His eyes are wide, and I can't read his face, but I can read the look in his eyes. Disbelief.

"James," he repeats, perplexed. "You think he had something to do with this?" He walks toward me and leans against the cab next to me. The cold radiating from him now is more intense than ever. I shiver violently, and he apologizes and steps away from me.

Immediately, I regret it. I want him close to me; I don't care how cold he is. I scoot close to him, letting my arm brush against his, and I try as hard as I can to hold back the urge to shiver. He smiles, appreciatively.

"Well, I said his name, and then you started vanishing. The last time that happened was when you stole the police report."

"Borrowed! I brought it back," he jests and chuckles, but it sounds strained. I don't like that he's trying to avoid what's going on. He does that a lot—always tries to lighten the mood for my sake—but I don't need that.

"Stop it, Edward! This is serious. James obviously has some connection to your death. He knows something, someone involved. I have to find out just what it is that he knows."

Edward turns his body toward me and looks down meaningfully at me. His gaze is piercing.

"Bella, don't do anything reckless. James is a shady character. He's not very trustworthy. He has a very obsessive nature. He becomes extremely fixated with things that catch his interest. He'll stop at nothing to get a girl, or if someone's wronged him, he'll stop at nothing to physically and emotionally scar that person. If you were to get on his bad side, Bella, it would be catastrophic. He would make your like a living hell. You would be running from him and his friends at all times. You wouldn't feel safe in your own bedroom. I don't want that to happen. Leave James be."

"I can't, Edward! He has something to do with this. I don't care what happens to me. I'm going to figure this out," I stand my ground as I look up at him.

"No!" he forcefully answers. "I don't want you to get hurt." His voice and demeanor is uncompromising—final.

I drop the conversation, not wanting to argue with Edward; it's the last thing I want to do. _But why is he so adamant about this? Is James as bad as he's making him out to be?_ We remain silent for a few minutes before Edward suggests we go home.

"It's gonna start to get dark. We should get you home," he suggests, looking away from me. I nod, though he doesn't see me. He looks so distressed. I can't stand to see him this way. He should always be smiling. _He's so beautiful, but when he smiles, _he's_ divine. _I walk, more like wobble, around the cab of the truck to the passenger side of the car, still dizzy, all while Edward stares at me curiously.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his lips pursed tightly. He's still in a bit of a sour mood.

"Letting you drive until we get to the highway, after that, I drive," I reply. Silently, I hope the gesture will improve his mood—and it does. He smiles grandly, quickly popping himself into the driver's seat. By the time I pull the keys out of my pocket, Edward's already waiting with his hand out and the passenger side door open.

"Keys, please?" he begs, smiling up at me like a little kid. I shake my head, and hand the keys over, surprised that though he's more translucent, he still has a steady grip on the keys. He gently picks them up and puts them into the ignition slowly. I stare confused at his tentative movements.

"I think that the more I vanish, the stronger I get. I nearly took the door off the truck when I opened it just now."

"This just gets weirder and weirder." Edward agrees, murmuring something along the lines of "You're telling me."

I put my seatbelt on and clutch it tightly against my chest. Edward chuckles.

"Are you okay?" he asks, through his laughter.

"Yep." _No, I don't want you to kill me or my truck, for that matter._

"Are you scared about my driving?" he asks, coyly. He's smirking. _Ugh, that god-awful smirk. _I shrug my shoulders and smile grimly.

"I told you, I can drive better than you on your best day," he teases. "You have much slower reflexes."

"I'm sure that's true, but I don't think my nerves or my truck, can take it."

"Some trust, please, Bella," he pleads. I take a deep breath and tense up as he turns the key and the truck comes to life, loudly, spurting and shaking us inside the cab. _If only I had a key to turn to bring Edward back to life._

"Bella, relax. I've already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. Besides, you couldn't even walk to your seat. You know, friends don't let friends drive drunk," he quotes with a chuckle.

"Drunk?" I object.

"You're intoxicated by my very presence." _There's that playful smirk again._ I don't know where the confidence he has comes from, but it's . _He has a point, though. I am intoxicated by his presence—no doubt about that._

"I can't argue with that," I sigh. "Take it easy—my truck is a senior citizen."

"Very sensible," he approves.

"And are you not affected at all?" I ask. "By my presence?" _Do I affect him as he affects me? Anything at all?_

His expression becomes soft, warm. He doesn't answer, he simply turns to me and tilts his head so his face is leveled with mine. He brushes his lips slowly along my jaw, from my ear to my chin, back and forth. I tremble and not from the cold.

"Regardless," he finally murmurs, pulling away, "I have better reflexes." _Even as a ghost, a boy will do all he can to avoid giving a real answer._

Again, I can't retaliate. He does have better reflexes. Being a ghost has only heightened them. I'm pretty sure he could catch a book falling from a bookshelf, from across the room.

We finally take off from the dirt road. Edward takes the truck as quickly as he can go with it—fifty—though he does try to hit fifty-five occasionally. Eventually, we reach the end of the dirt road. Edward turns to me and removes my seatbelt.

"Your turn," he comments, smiling as he pops out of the car beside the passenger side door. I shake my head, smiling as I slide to the driver's seat. When I turn back to face the passenger side, he's already there, holding a small yellow daffodil.

"For you." He smiles and places the flower behind my ear. I duck my head away to look out my window, bushing furiously. I can feel the heat on my face. _I bet I'm the color of the truck._

"Don't turn away from me," Edward whispers. He slowly moves his finger from my cheek down to my chin before turning my face toward him. The cold that radiates from him is so soothing.

"I told you. I love it when you blush," he remarks, placing a chaste, cold kiss on each cheek before sliding back closer to the passenger side door.

I drive, not saying anything, too afraid to blurt out something ridiculous. I can feel Edward staring at me from the corner of my eye. Sometimes he turns to look at the setting sun out his window, but he always manages to turn back around in time to catch me staring at him.

"Can I change the radio station?" he asks, quietly, humming along to the classical sonata coming through the speakers.

"Sure, it's your radio."

"I gave it to you, Bella. It's _your_ radio," he states, turning the dials until he arrives at a station of his liking. It's an oldies station, and he sings along to a song I'd never heard, not missing a line.

"You like fifties music?" I asked

"Music in the fifties was good. Much better than any other time. They're all pretty basic songs, simple melodies, but the songs are all catchy," he argues, animatedly.

I giggle at how excited he gets as he explains why fifties music is the best there is. A few more songs play as we drive along before a song comes on, one that I recognize, and I blush as Edward turns to me as he sings this one, word for word.

_Earth angel, earth angel  
will you be mine?  
My darling dear  
love you all the time.  
I'm just a fool,  
a fool in love with you._

"You see?" he points out. "The fifties produced some of the most memorable gems in music."

I nod my head in agreement, avoiding his stare, as he picks up singing the song once more, still facing me. We arrive in front of my house a few minutes later. The street lamps are already on, and the sky is already beginning to darken. Knowing Charlie, he'd be home from fishing soon.

I park the truck in the driveway, and remove my seatbelt, but when I go to open my door, Edward is already waiting there, holding it open for me. I thank him, and he bows his head my way. I smile bashfully.

We walk silently to the door, an Edward stops in front of it.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Can I come in?" he asks, coyly, and I giggle.

"What have I told you about that? Plus, you've already been in and out of this house without asking me."

"True, but to make this a real date, I had to ask," he exclaims as I push the door open.

"Date?" I ask as I turn around. _This was a date? I was on a date with Edward Cullen? Holy crow!_

"Yes. Date," he firmly states, closing the door behind him.

I feel a flash of cold wind pass me suddenly, and when I turn around, Edward's no longer there. I hear the crick of my old rocking chair up stairs and make my way up to my bedroom, carefully. The last thing I need is to fall up the stairs, though Edward might catch me. _Fast reflexes, right?_

Edward's already inside my room, sitting in his rocking chair in the corner. _His? Did I just call it _his_ rocking chair? It's my rocking chair, which he seems to like to sit on._

"Took you long enough to get up here," he jokes. He stands up swiftly, and stops just in front of me. He looks down smiling as I look up pouting.

"Well, not all of us can just pop into a room. Some of us actually have to use these things called legs," I retort playfully, and he chuckles.

"Walking is overrated."

"Says the ghost!" I say, which only serves to makes Edward laugh even harder.

I sit on the edge of the bed. Edward mimics my move and sits down beside me, facing me.

"You're beautiful, Isabella," he whispers out of the blue, and I jolt in my seat, turning my head to face him. I raise my eyebrow in skepticism. _I love when you call me, Isabella._

"Don't give me that look, Bella. You are _so_ beautiful," he whispers again, rubbing the back of his ice-cold hand against my warm, red cheek. He moves his hands to the ends of my hair. "I love how soft your hair is, and how soft your skin is, and how warm you always feel."

"Edward," I gasp as he leans forward.

"Bella."

"I hope the Quileute legend is true," I murmur, self-consciously. _I said that out loud? Crap!_ _I want the legend to be true, so badly, though. _I want Edward in my world, in my life, indefinitely.

"Me too, Bella. Me too," he speaks softly. His lips are mere inches from mine. I can feel his cool breath brushing against my lips, and I tremble from the cold, and the anticipation of what I want to happen.

"Can I kiss you again, Bella?" His eyes dart from my eyes to my lips—up and down repetitively.

"Yes," I manage to say as his lips touch mine. His soft, cold lips expertly manipulate mine as his hand finds its way to my waist, the cold causing me to shiver, but unlike other times when Edward pulls away, he holds on to me tighter. My hand immediately latches on to the hair at the back of his neck, delighting in how soft it feels between my fingers. This moment is more than I could have ever imagined. The kiss in the woods was amazing, but this kiss, this one right here, right now, is perfect.

Right as Edward begins to lay me down on my bed, my stomach growls. I've been so caught up with Edward all day that I didn't even notice I'm hungry. I realize, now, that I'm ravenous.

"I'm sorry." Edward chuckles and pulls away, "I'm keeping you from dinner."

"I'm fine really." _Back to the kissing please!_

"I forget that you have to eat, since I don't have to anymore."

I go to stand up, but the sound of tires on the brick driveway, and the headlights flashing at my window, startle me. I sit back down and look panicked toward Edward, though he looks perfectly at ease.

"He can't see me, remember?" he whispers, laughing heartily.

"Right!" I say, standing back up, embarrassed by my lack of realization. I look back at him, and he tells me that he'll be waiting for me. I hurry down the stairs, carefully. I hear my father's key turn in the door just as I reach the bottom of the stairs and head into the kitchen.

"Bella?" he calls.

"In here," I call from the kitchen, hoping he can't hear how out of breath I am from running down the stairs. I'm also trying not to hyperventilate because Edward kissed me again. _He kissed me!_ I want to yell it out to the world, but Charlie walks into the kitchen, his footsteps sounding incredibly loud after my day with Edward.

"Can you get me some of that? I'm bushed," Charlie asks, as I take last night's lasagna from the Tupperware in the refrigerator. I place a large square of it onto a plate, and put it into the microwave. As it heats, it fills the kitchen with the smell of tomatoes and oregano.

I take my food, and scarf it down as I get Charlie's dinner heated up. The lasagna burns my tongue, but I could care less. I fill two glasses with milk while his lasagna is heating, and I gulp mine to put out the fire in my chest. As I set the glass down, I notice the milk is trembling, and realize my hand is shaking. Slowly, I place the other plate of lasagna by Charlie's chair. He thanks me as he sits down.

"How was your day?" I ask. The words are rushed; I'm dying to escape to my room—where Edward is.

"Good. The fish were biting. How about you? Did you get everything done that you wanted to?"

"Not really—it was too nice out to stay indoors." I take another big bite.

"It was a nice day," he agrees. _What an understatement!_

Finished with my last bite of lasagna, I lift my glass and chug the remainder of my milk into the sink. Charlie surprises me by being observant. "In a hurry?" he asks. _Today! You pick today to notice something like that!_

"Yeah, I'm tired," I lie. "I'm going to bed early." _But not because I'm tired._

"You look kind of wired," he notes. _Why, oh, why does this have to be the night he pays attention?_

"Do I?" is all I can manage to respond. I quickly scrub my dishes clean in the sink, and place them upside down on a dish towel to dry.

"It's Saturday," he muses.

I don't respond. I know where this is headed.

"No plans tonight?" he asks.

"No, Dad. I just want to get some sleep."

"None of the boys in town your type?" _More like I'm none of their type, though I do have this handsome ghost upstairs who likes me, so please shut up, so I can get up there!_

"No, none."

"Well, you're too good for them all, anyway. Wait till you get to college to start looking." It's every father's dream that his daughter will be out of the house before the hormones kick in.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," I agree as I head out the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Night, honey," Charlie calls after me.

"See you in the morning, Dad." _See you creeping into my room tonight at midnight to check on me._

I work to make my tread sound slow and tired as I walk up the stairs to my room. I shut the door loud enough for him to hear. When I look around the room, Edward is nowhere to be found.

"Edward," I whisper out the window. The first night he had taken to leave through there, though it was completely useless since he could just pop around everywhere.

The deep, quiet, laughing, response comes from behind me. "Yes?"

I whirl around in surprise to find him lying, smiling hugely, across my bed. His hands are behind his head, and his feet dangling off the end. He looks like the ultimate picture of ease.

"Oh!" I breathe, sinking unsteadily to the floor.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, pressing his lips together, trying to hide his amusement.

"Just give me a minute to restart my heart." He chuckles and sits up. He leans forward and reaches out with his long arms to pick me up, gripping the tops of my arms as if I were a toddler. He sits me on the bed beside him.

"Why don't you sit with me?" he suggests, putting a cold hand on mine. "How's the heart?"

I make an umph sound that causes him to laugh.

"Can I have a minute?" I ask.

"Certainly." He gestures with one hand that I should proceed.

I hop up, grabbing my pajamas from off the floor, and my bag of toiletries on my dresser. I turn the light off, so as not to have Charlie suspect anything. I can hear the sound from the TV rising up the stairs. I bang the bathroom door loudly, so Charlie won't come up to bother me. That's one thing I love about him. He doesn't hover—ever. Not even after my mother died. He's always respected by independence.

I mean to hurry. I brush my teeth fiercely, trying to be thorough _and_ speedy, removing all traces of lasagna, but the hot water of the shower can't be rushed. It unknots the muscles in my back and calms my pulse. The familiar smell of my shampoo makes me feel like I might be the same person I had been this morning before everything that happened with Edward.

I try not to think of him, sitting in my room, waiting. It only serves to make me nervous. I want to ask him so many things, but every time I think I will, I lose the motivation. I'm far to cowardly to ask what I really want, but tonight I will. I want to know why he never talked to me. I don't believe what he told me in the meadow.

I can't delay anymore. I shut off the water, toweling hastily, rushing again. I pull on my holey t-shirt and gray sweatpants. I rub the towel through my hair again, and then yank the brush through it quickly. I throw the towel in the hamper, fling my brush into my bag, and dash down the stairs, nearly tripping on the last one, so I can show Charlie that I'm in pajamas with wet hair.

"Night, Dad."

"Night, Bella." He looks startled by my appearance. Maybe that'll keep him from checking up on me tonight.

I take the steps two at a time, and fly in to my room, to find Edward hasn't budge a fraction of an inch since I left him. He looks like a Greek statue. I smile, and his lips twitch. The statue comes to life.

His eyes look me over, taking in my appearance. He raises an eyebrow. "Nice."

I grimace.

"No, it looks good on you," he assures me.

"Thanks," I whisper, self-consciously as I lie down next to him, but not too close because it wouldn't be smart for my wet hair to meet his cold body. _It might turn to ice._

"What was all that for?" he asks, making a grand gesture with his hands.

"Charlie thinks I'm sneaking out." _Why? I don't know. The only friend I have is Angela._

"Oh," he contemplates. "Why?"

"Apparently, I look a little overexcited." He lifts my chin, examining my face. My face flushes in his cold hands.

"You look very warm, actually." He bends his face slowly to mine and places his cheek against my skin. I hold perfectly still.

"Mmmmmm," he breathes.

It's hard to articulate a question when Edward is touching me, but still I manage.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask, lowly, breathing in deeply.

"You just did," he laughs as he pulls away.

"Very mature, but really, can I ask you something?" I begin again.

"Anything, Isabella. You can ask me anything."

I suppress the urge to squeal like a little girl when he calls me Isabella. He's the only person beside my mother who I will actually allow to call me by my full name.

"Why?"

"Why what?" he asks confused, sitting up.

"Why did you never talk to me?" I ask, not believing that fact that I have actually worked up enough courage to inquire. Edward's eyes widen, and he takes a deep shuddering breath.

"I told you earlier," he argues, but I shake my head.

"You lied before."

He smiles and nods his head.

"Paying attention I see. So you really want to know?"

"Yes," I say, trying not shout. The last thing I need is Charlie wondering if I have some sort of imaginary friend.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly!" I repeat.

"You intimidated me!" he answers, seriously.

"What?" I ask in disbelief. "How?"

"You were always so quiet, and off in your own world, that whenever I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you, I chickened out. I didn't think I belonged in your world. Then when your mom died, you became even more secluded into your own space. I had no right to be a part of that, especially after all those years, so I let you be, but I always watched. I watched as you excelled in school, and how you spent most of your time in the library. I noticed how you took the blame for Angela when we were ten. I noticed the way the way you always brush your hair behind you right ear, and the way you shuffle your feet when you're nervous. I watched. You always held my attention." He smiles wistfully, and in turn I smile.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Anything," he responds, taking a hold of my hand closest to him.

"Do you love Victoria?"

"I loved her, once, yes. Victoria and I were both very naïve about everything when we started dating. She was my first girlfriend, but I'm sure you could see we were growing apart recently. We were pretty much together just because it was comfortable to have that person there. We were good friends. I always knew she liked James though, that's why in the cafeteria the other day, I seemed bitter. I knew she would find comfort in him, especially since I knew James liked her. He's liked her since elementary school."

"And you dated her?" I ask, shocked. It doesn't seem like something Edward would do.

"He was dating someone else when Emmett suggested I ask her out. After that, James and I have never seen eye to eye. It caused a bit of a riff in our friendship. Did you know that James also has a crush on you?"

"What?"

"Yeah. He and I seem to have the same taste in woman."

"But I'm nothing compared to her. I can't compete with her," I murmur.

"There's no competition." He grabs the hand he's holding and wraps it around his back, holding me to his chest. I keep as still as I can, even breathing with caution.

"I _know_ there's no competition," I mumble into his freezing cold chest. "That's the problem."

"Bella, you're beautiful. How many times am I going to have to say it until you believe it? You've always been the only one I've had my eye on. Yes, Victoria is attractive, and yes, I loved her, but you were always on my mind," he answers sincerely. "Always."

He looks down at me and kisses my forehead. "Anymore questions," he asks?

"Millions actually, but I won't ask them." I waggle my eyebrows when Edward isn't looking.

"Can I ask a question?" I nod my head.

"How would you feel about meeting my parents tomorrow?"

"What? How would that even work, Edward?"

"Alice has actually arranged it all, so your presence is actually expected. Remember when I wrote something on a napkin for just her and Emmett to read. I asked them to arrange a lunch with my parents."

"Why? You're parents are going to think I'm nuts."

"They're gonna love you. I know I—" but he doesn't finish his sentence. "Lie down," he hisses as he gets off the bed and stands beside me. I roll under my quilt, balling up on my side, the way I usually sleep. I hear the door crack open, as Charlie peeks in to make sure I'm where I'm supposed to be. I breathe evenly, exaggerating it a bit.

A long minute passes. I listen, not sure if I hear the door close. Then I feel Edward's cool arm around me, under the covers, his lips at me ear.

"You're a terrible actress—I'd say that career path is out for you."

"Darn it," I mutter. My heart is beating against my chest. I can't handle how good it feels to be in his arms.

"You're so warm," he comments, holding me as tight as he can. His touch is almost non-existent.

"You're cold," I reply back, yawning.

"And you're tired," he chuckles, lifting himself out from under the covers.

"Don't go," I plead, and he smiles down at me.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm just gonna lay on top the sheets so I'm not as cold to you."

I nod, suppressing another yawn.

"Get to sleep, Bella. You have a big day tomorrow with my family." I groan, and he lets out a tiny chuckle.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, beautiful."

Edward hums as he lies down beside me, pulling me close to him. He hums a familiar song; the voice of an archangel, soft in my ear.

More tired than I realize, exhausted from the long day of mental and emotional stress like I've never felt before, I begin to drift to sleep.

"Thank you," I hear Edward whisper.

"Who are you thanking?" I ask, bewildered.

"Whoever up there gave me the opportunity to finally tell you how I feel—whoever brought us together."

I sigh contently and finally fall asleep in Edward's cold arms—somewhere I thought I'd never be.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: You In A Song

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**** THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES QUOTES FROM CHAPTER 15 &16 of _Twilight_, and one (1) line from _Midnight Sun_. ****

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**You in a Song**

* * *

The muted light of another cloudy day in Forks wakes me up. I lay in bed with my arm across my eyes, groggy and dazed. Something like a dream tries to break into my consciousness, but I ignore it, opting to roll over and try to fall back asleep, but the day's previous events come flooding back into my awareness.

"Oh!" I sit up too fast, and my head spins.

"Your hair looks like a haystack, but I like it." Edward's smooth voice comes from the rocking chair in the corner.

"You stayed!" I rejoice, pulling myself out of the bed sheets and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Of course," he answers, standing up and coming to join me. I shiver almost instantly when he sits beside me. With each passing day, he gets colder and colder, but I can care less. _As long as he's still here, I don't care._

I lay my head casually against his shoulder, prompting myself to contain the shiver I know wants to pass through me.

"I was sure it was a dream."

"You're not that creative," he scoffs, chuckling lightly. I lightly punch his arm, only to retract my hand in pain.

"Ow! Ow! That really hurt!" I groan as I shake my hand violently to stop the pain coursing through it. Edward immediately grabs my hand. He examines it as he rubs his cool fingers against the black-and-blue forming along my knuckles.

"Bella, you have to remember that I'm a glacier." I roll my eyes at him and head over to the window. I look to see that Charlie's cruiser is gone.

"He left an hour ago," he says, noticing my observation.

I nod my head and begin to deliberate. I want return to him, badly, but I'm afraid that I have morning breath.

"You're not usually _this_ confused in the morning," he teases. He walks toward me and opens his arms for my return. I want to; it's an irresistible invitation.

"I need a minute," I admit.

"I'll wait."

I skip on toward the bathroom, my emotions unrecognizable. The face in the mirror is practically a stranger— eyes too bright, hectic spots of red across my cheekbones. This person is new. I've never seen this person before. She looks happy, for once, and I am. I'm really happy. It's a welcomed change.

After I brush my teeth, I work on the tangled mess I call my hair. I blame Charlie for the rat's nest that sits in its place. I splash my face with cold water and try to breathe normally, but I don't help it by half-running back to my room.

Edward greets me with open arms once I enter.

"Welcome back," he murmurs, taking me into his arms. He rocks me for a while in silence, until I notice that his clothes are different.

"You left?" I accuse, touching the collar of his fresh shirt. He'd been wearing it before I left to the bathroom, but I hadn't noticed it.

"Yeah, I felt it necessary."

"How are you able to change clothes?" I wonder out loud. "Don't ghosts usually just—wear whatever they died in?" I gasp after my question. It sounds so insensitive.

"Bella, relax." Edward tries to comfort me and holds me tight against his cold, rigid frame. "We've established that I'm dead about a week ago, so please don't be afraid to say it." I nod my head shyly, feeling silly.

"I don't know why I can change clothes—" he starts, "—but maybe it has to do with the fact that I'm not supposed to be dead."

"These questions just keep popping up every five seconds, but no answers," I whine, frustrated with everything. I just want to get down to the root of all this. I'm tired of new things popping up from every corner. Every time I answer one question, ten more crop up. It's frustrating and just plain annoying.

"You're not mad that I left?" Edward asks, noticing the change in my demeanor.

"No, of course not. I'm just frustrated with all that's going on."

Edward hugs me tighter, the cold sinking into my veins worse than before. I shiver involuntarily, and he pulls away, but I push myself toward him again.

"Stop doing that," I tell him, and he stares down bewildered.

"Bella, I'm as cold as ice. That cannot feel nice," he argues, head hanging.

"Let me be the judge of that." Edward shakes his head as we collide again. This time he stays put. We stand silent in each other's arms and let the time drag, but of course, I have to ruin the moment.

Edward chuckles as my stomach decides to interrupt the silence. "Breakfast time."

"I can't believe you can't eat anything. I mean, have you at least tried?" I ask, starting to head toward the door.

"Yes, don't you remember the day I made you eggs. I tried to taste them and nearly threw up. It was horrible."

I grab onto the railing as we reach the stairs, and suddenly Edward picks me up and throws me over his stone cold shoulder. I protest unenthusiastically, as he carries me down. _Never let go. Never let go._

"What's for breakfast?" I ask pleasantly, and Edward stands stoic. The question throws him off for a moment.

"Er, I'm not sure. What would you like?"

I grin, hopping up out of my chair. _"_That's all right; I fend for myself pretty well." I find a bowl and a box of cereal. I can feel his eyes on me as I pour the milk and grab a spoon. I sit my food on the table, and pause.

"What?" I ask.

"It's just that—" he starts, his voice trailing. "That used to be my favorite cereal." He looks away, biting his lip.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I can eat something else."

He rolls his eyes. _Well, that's not what I expected._

"Just eat, Bella."

I sit at the table, watching him as I take a bite. He's gazing at me, studying my every move. It makes me self-conscious, and I can feel the heat rising in my face. It doesn't go unnoticed. _Who am I kidding? It never does._

"I love that shade of pink," Edward murmurs, moving to sit beside me. He strokes the back of one cold finger against my warm cheek, and my breath staggers. He smiles grandly, leans forward, and kisses me. It's just a sweet, chaste tap of his lips against mine, but it sends my heart racing, and my cheeks flush even more. _Of course they do; I can't control them._

"I really do love when you're flustered," he says again, this time kissing my cheek. The cold feels incredible against the heat. It's such a dichotomy of sensations, so intense and so breathtaking.

"I like when you do that. I like the cold when you touch me."

"Good to know," he whispers, leaning back against his chair. "Finish your breakfast. You have a big day ahead of you."

"What's on the agenda for today?" I ask, taking more bites of the sugary cereal.

"Did you forget already? You're meeting my family. Alice and Emmett have it all set up."

I gulp loudly, the cereal feeling like a lump of clay in my throat. I can't believe that I forgot that I was meeting his family. I can't believe he actually managed to arrange it. I can't believe this is really happening.

"You look afraid," he addresses, rubbing my arm in a way I assume is supposed to be comforting.

"I am," I admit. _How could I deny it?_

"There's no reason for you to be afraid," he tries to reassure me, that doesn't mean much.

"I'm afraid they won't ike me."

"They are going to love you. I promise. They've heard me talk about you enough—you know—when I was around. Plus, they know that you're an amazing girl. So please, relax. You will be fine. I'll protect you."

"I guess," I murmur, getting up to pour the remaining milk out of my bowl. I hate the left over milk once the cereal is done.

Edward stands in the middle of the kitchen, the statue of Adonis again, staring intently out the back window. Then his eyes are back on me, and he smiles that heartbreaking smile.

"Finished?"

"Yep."

"Get dressed. I'll wait here."

I grimace as I turn away from him. This is the last thing I want to do. It's odd to meet a boy's parents when—you know—he's dead, and you're pretty much going there to tell them that their son shouldn't have died, and that you can hear, speak, touch, and kiss their recently deceased son. S_eems more like an impossible task, if you ask me._

It's hard to decide what to wear, once I'm in my room. I doubt there are any etiquette books detailing how to dress when you met the parents of you deceased friend—who may or not be your boyfriend. _What the hell are we? Since he's dead does this make it necrophilia? Oh crap, why am I thinking about this?_

I pick the only skirt I own—long, khaki-colored—but still casual. I put on a dark blue blouse and take a quick glance in the mirror. It lets me know that my hair is entirely impossible to control, so I tie it back into a ponytail. _Thanks again, Charlie._

"Okay." I bounce down the stairs. Edward's waiting at the foot of the stairs, and just as I think I'm going to make a successful trek down them, I trip right into him. He steadies me, before pulling me away from him.

"You look lovely," he compliments, brushing a stray piece of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my right ear.

"Thank you," I answer, ducking my head away as I start to blush. He chuckles lightly and lifts my face with his hand.

"Don't hide that from me, Bella. It's nice to know that I have an effect on you. It lets me know that my feelings are reciprocated," he whispers the last part, and it's the first time I've ever seen him look vulnerable. _This is Edward Cullen we're talking about. The same Edward Cullen that had girls fawning over him, and yes, he may be dead, but if there were female ghosts hanging around, they'd be all over him, too. I just know it._

"They are definitely reciprocated." Edward smiles that devastatingly beautiful smile of his, and I blush. I can't believe I plucked up the courage to actually say it out loud.

"What are we?" I ask and clap a hand over my mouth. _Stupid mouth. Are you not connected to my brain?_

"What do you mean?" he asks, perplexed, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Nothing," I answer, starting to walk toward the door.

"No, Bella. What do you mean?" he inquires, grabbing my hand to pull me back. The cold invades my body, and I relish in it for the brief moment.

"Nothing, Edward. It's just. Are we friends?"

"I'd like to think that we're so much more than that," he answers with so much conviction and sincerity, that I believe him. My heart flutters and the urge to kiss him is strong, but I don't because maybe yesterday was just a fluke. Maybe he just wanted to kiss someone, one last time.

"What are you thinking about?" he questions me, breaking my thoughts.

"Nothing." I duck my head down and turn away from him.

"It didn't look like nothing," he chuckles, turning my head to face him.

"It's just. Yo—you kissed me yesterday—"

"And twenty minutes ago," he interrupts, smiling brightly.

"Yes. I can't help but to think it's because you're afraid you'll never get to kiss anyone again, so why not me." My head falls forward, and I hear him sigh before he steps closer to me. Again, his hand finds my chin and he lifts it up.

"How could you say that? Did you not listen to a word I said yesterday? Bella, it was always you that my mind raced to. I didn't kiss you because it may be the last kiss I ever have. I kissed you because I want _you_ to be the last kiss I may ever have."

"Really?" I ask, my lips trembling as I try to reign my emotions. _Since when am I this girly? Get a grip! It's just a boy. Yeah, the boy of your dreams, proclaiming his undying love? Dying love? Undead love?_

"Yes," he whispers, leaning down and kissing me. His cool lips press tightly against mine as he pulls me close. I'm unbelievably cold, but I can care less.

I may never get this again.

He pulls away, brushing the pad of his thumb on my swollen lips.

"And by the way, I adore you...in frightening, dangerous ways," he says as he walks toward the door and opens it. I bite my lips, suppressing the enormous smile that wants to appear, but as I step outside, I'm reminded of why I'm dressed up in the skirt that may just well be a straight jacket for my legs. I feel my stomach drop as we get to my truck; I'm nervous.

No, I'm petrified.

"Are you okay?" he asks as we step into the cab of my truck.

"No—you're family is going to want to kill me. I'm coming there to tell them their son shouldn't have died—something they already know."

"Bella, relax. It's going to be fine. I know my family. Please believe me," he comforts as I drive off.

I realize as I drive my truck out of the main part of town, that I have no idea where he lives.

"Where do you live?" I ask as we drive over the bridge at the Calawah River, the road winding northward, the houses flashing past us grow further apart, getting bigger.

"I'll tell you when to turn."

We pass the other houses altogether and I turn into a misty forest. I keep driving until Edward asks me if he can drive. I stop the car right before an unpaved road he makes me turn onto and slide to the passenger side as he pops in the driver's seat.

He thanks me grandly with a smile as he starts to drive through the unmarked road, barely visible among the ferns. The forest is encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernible for a few meters as it twists, serpent-like, around the ancient trees. I'm glad he's driving because I probably would have hit a tree by now.

After a few miles, there is a thinning of the woods, and we're suddenly in a small meadow, or is it actually a lawn? Six primordial cedars shade an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees hold their protecting shadow right up to the walls of the house that is among them, making obsolete the deep porch that wrapped around the first story, but rays of sunlight still manage to seep through.

I gasp as he parks the car, popping over to my side to open my door. I don't know what I expected, but this isn't it. His house is timeless, graceful. It's painted a soft, faded white, three stories tall, rectangular, and well proportioned. My truck is the only car in sight and I can hear the river close by.

"Wow."

"You like it?" He smiles.

"It…has a certain charm."

He pulls at the end of my ponytail and chuckles as he leads me to the front door.

"Ready?" he asks, as I raise my fist to knock on the large wooden door. _This is like the door to the _Secret Garden_. No good can come from this._

"Not even a little bit—let's go." I try to laugh, but it gets stuck in my throat. He reaches down for my hand and squeezes it lightly before letting go. We can hear footsteps approaching, and suddenly the door opens and a four foot eleven little girl quickly attacks me.

"Bella!" Alice greets me enthusiastically, hugging me tightly as she leads me into the house.

The inside is even more surprising, less predictable than the exterior. It's bright, very open, and large. The entrance looks like it could have originally been several rooms, but they chose to knock down all the walls. The back, south facing wall is made entirely of glass.

Waiting to greet us by the curving staircase that dominated the west of the room is Edward's parents.

I recognize Dr. Cullen from the hospital, and I still manage to get awe struck. It's like looking at an older, blond version of Edward. Dr. Carlisle Cullen was definitely a stud in his youth. _He's still a stud, let's be honest._

At his side, his wide, Edward's mother, Esme, I can only assume. But you can definitely see the resemblance there for Alice. Alice looks just like a tiny version of Esme. Esme reminds me of the ingénues of the silent-movie era with her pale skin, and her heart-shaped face, and the soft caramel-colored billows of soft hair.

"Mom, Dad, this is Isabella Swan," Alice introduces me. I sneak a peek at Edward and notice that he is beaming, a smile a mile-wide on his face.

Before I can say hello, the loud sounds of Emmett's footsteps enter the expansive room.

"Bella!" he yelps from the top of the stairs as he slides around the banister, Esme scolding him the entire way down.

"Hi Emmett, Dr. Cullen, Mrs. Cullen," I greet.

"Call me Esme, sweetheart," Esme informs me as she comes forward to hug me, Emmett following his mother's lead.

"Welcome to Casa Cullen," Emmett says, spreading his arms out like a museum tour guide.

"Thank you, Emmett. It's a pleasure to be here. You have a lovely home."

"Thank you, Bella," Esme kindly thanks me, smiling brightly. Her smile is infectious, just like Edward's.

"Bella," Carlisle calls me, his voice serious and my stomach flips. I knew this was coming. Edward turns to me and nods his head. _What the hell does that mean? You're no help at all, Edward._

"Dr. Cullen."

"Call me Carlisle, Bella," he corrects me, smiling gently.

"Carlisle."

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Bella. I hope you're feeling better."

"Much."

"I don't mean to sound rude, but Esme and I had a long discussion with Alice and Emmett, and they told us some very strange things," he began, his eyes darting to his children and then back to me. I fidgeted in my spot as Alice and Emmett stared at me, nodding their heads at me. _What is with that? Is that a Cullen thing? Is that supposed to comfort me?_

I tense up as Carlisle begins to speak again, but I feel Edward's hand brush against mine, to relax me. I look away from Carlisle, trying to be polite, and my eyes wander to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. Esme notices my preoccupation as I try to take some pressure away from me.

"Do you play?"she asks tightly as I keep eyeing the grand piano that gleamed in the sunlight.

I shake my head. "Not at all. But it's so beautiful. Is it yours?"

"No," she whispers, somberly and I notice everyone's face drops in the room. "It was Edward's," she continues. "He started playing when he was three. He was masterful."

"I didn't know."

"Again, Bella, not to be rude," Carlisle interrupts us. "But what is this thing my children have been speaking about. Alice and Emmett spent all of yesterday trying to explain it to us, but I still don't understand. You can see Edward?" he asks, bringing Esme close to him as a sob escapes her. I feel terrible for inflicting this unnecessary pain.

"Yes, sir. I can."

"How?" he questions, furiously because he doesn't believe me. _But who would?_

"Bella," Edward finally speaks up. "Let me show them."

"Wait. I'll tell you when," I whisper, but everyone hears me.

Esme and Carlisle just stare at me incredulously, but Alice and Emmett's eyes light up.

"What are you trying it pull?" Carlisle asks harshly.I can't blame him, though. I would react the same way if it had been Edward to tell me he could see my mother.

"I'm not trying to pull anything. Last week, I literally tripped over Edward in the hallway in school. I didn't even know about the accident until he told me. I almost didn't believe him until he showed me the memorial card. He saved my life in the parking lot, when Tyler's car careened—"

"I thought that was Alice?" Esme asked, her voice wavering.

"That's what I was trying to tell you, Mom. It was Edward. He…possessed me," she responds, helping me.

"Possessed?" Carlisle asks.

"Well, it's actually more like 'spiriting'."

"So, the same happen in Port Angeles with Emmett?" Carlisle asks, his body growing less tense.

"Yes, sir. I'm not lying. Edward wasn't supposed to die. That night, someone cut the breaks on the car he was driving."

Everyone in the room gasps at the information.

"How—how do you know that?" Emmett asks, his tough demeanor slowly cracking.

"Edward found the police report," I answer, not mentioning the fact that he had actually snuck into the Fork's Police Department to "borrow_"_ it.

"But, how does that explain why you can supposedly see him?" Carlisle asks again, this time his voice isn't nearly as stiff as before.

"I honestly don't know, but I can, and I'm going to do whatever it is I can do to help solve his death."

Esme's body shakes against her husbands, and I can't help but feel terrible for bringing all this up. It's only been a week since the accident, and perhaps the pain is starting to ease, but here I come to intensify it.

"Alice and Emmett said that they spoke to Edward. Can we speak to Edward?" Esme asks timidly.

"Of course," I answer, earnestly, trying to build her trust.

"Do you need a pen and paper?" Emmett asks, getting ready to get some.

"No," I shake my head, and he and Alice stand looking at me confused. "Edward, show them."

Edward nods his head, and I slowly walk beside him as he heads toward the piano, the sun beaming down on the bench and keys. He sits down, and suddenly, the sound of four people's disbelief and shock pervades the room.

"Edward!" Esme and Alice both gasp.

"Whoa!" Emmett exclaims.

"My son!" Carlisle cries out. "How?" he asks me, his eyes watering as he stares at his deceased son sitting on the piano bench.

"I don't know," I answer, honestly.

"Mom. Dad. Em. Alice," he addresses them all, and watches as they all stare shocked. I want to cry because I feel like I'm intruding once more.

"Edward!" Alice cries out as she nearly pummels Edward to the floor. He catches her as she lands on him, and he holds her tightly as she cries into his shoulder.

"Oh, Edward. I miss you so much."

Esme quickly joins Alice and suddenly the entire family is embracing. I turn to walk away and head home to leave them be; Edward can very easily just pop into my room later.

"Bella!" he calls out, and I turn back toward the piano as he stands up and walks to me. I hear his family gasp as he suddenly disappears as he steps away from the sunlight and walks toward me.

"Where are you going?" he asks, pulling me toward him by my hand.

"Edward, spend time with your family."

"Stay," he says, pulling me tightly.

"I don't belong here," I whisper and it's him the shudders.

"How can you still think that after yesterday?"

I don't answer. I just stare at him as he pleads with his eyes for me to stay. I can feel his family watching the exchange and I wonder how odd it must be to see my hands raised in the air as I lean against thin air.

"Okay."

"Thank you," he says lowly as he pulls me toward the piano. Alice and Esme rise from the bench and Edward and I take their places.

"I can't believe this is real. This is pretty cool," Emmett's boisterous voice fills up the silent room. He sounds like a little boy and everyone laughs, though the laughter is tight.

"Play something," Alice demands as she watches Edward's fingers tinker with the ends of the ivory keys.

He nods and begins to play the familiar sounds of _Claire de Lune_, before changing the song to something hauntingly beautiful, something I've never heard. Esme gasps as she watches his fingers flow swiftly across the ivory. The room is filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant, it's impossible to believe he's the one playing it.

As the song finishes, he turns to me and chuckles at my amazed reaction.

"Do you like it?" he asks, everyone in the room smiling brightly at us.

"You wrote that?" I ask, and he nods his head.

"It's my mother's favorite," he answers, and I turn to see tears streaming down Esme's face.

"I never thought I'd get to hear it ever again," her voice trembles as she speaks. "Play her song," she instructs him, instructing everyone to leave the room, promising that they would be back.

"Her song?" I ask, turning to face him. He chuckles lightly, a small smile on his face.

"She means your song."

"My song?" _He wrote me a song?_

He doesn't answer. He begins tinkering with the keys and the music slow transforms into something softer, and I recognize it. It's the song he frequently hums to me at night.

"You inspired this one," he says softly as the music grows unbearably sweet.

I can't speak. I'm stunned.

"It's beautiful," I finally manage to say as the music comes to a stop.

"You are," he answers, and I blush, shaking my head. Never has anyone called me beautiful, beside my mother and father, but Edward says it every chance he gets. It's still very bizarre to hear.

His family walks into the room, all wearing smiles on their face. Esme is the first to speak. Carlisle has her cradled in his arms.

"You finished it," she addresses Edward, and he nods.

"I finally had a reason to," he replies, turning to face me, and I duck my head away from him.

"Geeze, do you always bush, Bella?" Emmett asks, causing everyone to laugh.

"No, Emmett, only when I have reason to."

"So what does this all mean?" Carlisle asks, breaking the reverie.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Sunsets and Car Crash

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**Sunsets and Car Crashes**

* * *

"This is insane," Emmett interrupts the stilted conversation between Carlisle and me. I mentally thank him. _Thank you, Emmett, you super-sized teddy bear._

"That's an understatement," Esme speaks up as she runs her fingers through Edward's hair. Her fingers twirl the ends. She's still in awe. I can tell by her eyes that she's elated and grateful for the opportunity of being able to hold her son in her arms again, be it only for a few moments. It's the fact that she finally gets to say goodbye, when she hadn't before, that breaks my heart.

_If only I had had the chance to say goodbye to my mother._

"How is this possible?" It's Alice who asks the question this time, and all I can do is shake my head because I don't know.

"Why can _you _see him?" Carlisle asks as he stares down at Edward—at his son. There is a light in his eyes; he's so happy, there's no other way to describe it.

"I wish I knew, but I think it has to do with something Edward never got to do before he died. Unfinished business. That's all I can think of. That and that he wasn't supposed to die."

"So, how long has he been present?" Esme speaks. Her voice wavers and sounds like if she is about to cry.

"Since Monday," Edward answers, and Esme's face lights up and tears begin to well in them. She's still mesmerized by his presence. _You're not the only one._

"So ,there's nothing we can do to help him?" Carlisle inquires. I have a feeling I know what he really wants to ask.

"There is an old Quileute legend, but I only know the simplified version," I begin, and Emmett interrupts me.

"A legend? You want us to believe that the answer to this comes from a legend."

"Emmett, I'm dead, and you can see me," Edward contests, and Emmett nods.

"Good point. Continue Bella."

"Jacob Black, a family friend of mine on the Quileute reservation, told me the story of Kachina and Chebeyo. They were from rival tribes. Kachina was a woman whose job it was to wash the uniforms of her tribes' warriors, and Chebeyo was a warrior that watched over the river for his tribe. Their lands were divided by this river. That's where they saw each other for the first time.

"Apparently, they would see each other every sundown when she would go to the river to wash and him to guard. The legend goes that they fell in love at first sight. So, for years they always showed up at the river at the same time, so they could see one another."

"That's sweet," Alice pipes in. She's engrossed by the love story.

"Well, it didn't go unnoticed, and though they never did anything or even said anything to each other, it was seen as immoral, and Kachina's father set his sons out to kill Chebeyo. The next day when Chebeyo was not at the river Kachina was heartbroken, but as she walked away from the river, the spirit of Chebeyo stopped her. She was shocked, of course, because he was on her side of the river, but she noticed things about him. There was a glow to him, and his body was cold. She knew he was dead. She couldn't understand why she could see or touch him, but she knew no one else could."

I pause waiting for the question I assume is coming. Carlisle is the one to ask.

"Cold? A glow? Edward feels normal."

"In the sun, but when I'm the only one who can see him, there's a blue aura that surrounds him, and he's as cold as ice, and every time we come closer to figuring out what happened that night, he fades away a little more."

"Fades away?" Alice asks, concern evident on her face. I swallow before I answer. The look on her face is devastating. I don't want to tell her, not just because I want to avoid causing her more pain, but because I don't want to believe it.

"Yeah, he becomes a little more translucent each time."

"Could you explain?"

"Let her finish the story and then she can explain. "Bella?" Edward intervenes.

I nod and continue. "Well, when Kachina and Chebeyo began to talk, they figured out that he had been killed, but they didn't know how. As the days passed, they looked for answers. Slowly, they began to find clues as to what happened. When she figured out that her brother's had killed him, his spirit disappeared. She spent the entire night by the river, crying. When she woke up the next morning, she found herself on his side of the river, his arms warm around her. Apparently, their love had brought him back from the dead."

The room falls silent, and everyone stares. I can feel the heat rising in my face. I despise being the center of attention.

"You said, watered down?" Carlisle asks.

"Yeah, apparently there's a different version, a real version, but not one that I or Edward can find anywhere, so I plan on going to the reservation tomorrow after class to ask Billy Black about it. I'm more than positive he knows."

"You just plan on dropping by and asking him about a story, with no notice or anything? That's not very smart," Carlisle chides, and I grimace.

"Dad," Edward hisses. "The reason we even know about the legend and about me in the sun is _because _of Billy Black. He saw me the other day, in the sun, and he told me to research the legend, after I told him about Bella."

"So, if Bella figures out what happened, you'll come back to life?" Emmett asks skeptically, and I can't really blame him. It's completely outlandish and sounds ridiculous.

"Why are you so sure to believe that it couldn't happen? I mean, we _can_ see him," Alice argues hopefully, and Esme nods in agreement. I can't help but smile. _Leave it to Alice to look at the bright side._

"I don't know, Alice. I can't make that promise." I regret saying it because the small smile on her face fades away quickly.

"Yes, Alice. Do not get your hopes up," Carlisle advises her. "However, you will let us know if anything is possible after your meeting with Billy?"

"Of course. It's only right."

"Thank you, Bella. Really," Carlisle begins. "You don't know how much this means to us. The fact that we can see Edward—even for only this moment—is a blessing."

"I can only imagine," I reply, and Edward smiles at me.

"You and Edward must have been good friends," Carlisle says as he lays a hand on Edward's shoulder. Edward says nothing as his father stares at me, waiting for me to say something.

"Well, actually, Edward and I aren't friends. We never talked at school; we ran in different circles."

"We're not friends?" Edward asks, standing up from the piano bench. The sudden movement causes Alice and Esme to crash into each other.

"Edward, we never talked in school." He walks closer to me.

"I know. I was an idiot," he admits. "But you just said that we_ aren't_ friends, not that we _weren't_."

I turn to look away from him, but he side steps so that my turned head is still facing him.

"Bella," he whispers. His eyes are focused on mine. I sneak a glance at everyone else sitting or standing by the piano, waiting for my response.

"You know my answer."

"And it's the wrong one!" he shouts, grabbing my hands. Alice gasps at his sudden outburst, and Esme looks surprised, but there's a trace of a smile forming.

"It's not," I murmur, and he reacts by grabbing my face between his hands.

"Isabella Swan, you're absurd. How can you still think that? We are so much more than friends," he declares, placing a very quick kiss on my lips. It's just a gentle tapping of his lips on mine, but it still manages to make my stomach flip and my heart flutter.

"This is going to end so badly," I whisper, and Edward nods. He presses his forehead against mine. I blink away the tears that are starting to form.

"But until then," he replies, grabbing my hand and walking me closer to his family.

"May I ask a question?" I nod my head toward Alice and wait for her to speak.

"Before—you said something about fading away?"

"Yes, Bella. What did you mean about that?" Carlisle interjects.

"Well, whenever Edward and I say something that could potentially give us an answer as to what happened the night of the accident—" I begin to say, but stop when Esme flinches.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

"It's okay, dear. It's just so hard to hear, even with him sitting here," she replies, and Edward places his hand in her hers. I see him squeeze it gently, and a tear rolls down her face.

"I know," I empathize, but continue my explanation. "Well, whenever we say something, or really whenever _I _say something that is connected with that night's events, Edward fades, as in he becomes a bit more translucent." I stop again, to see four pairs of wide eyes staring oddly at me, and Edward smiling tight lipped at me.

"What Bella means," he picks up from where I left off, "is that, I slowly fade away. I can only assume that the moment we figure out what happened I will disappear completely, to wherever it is I'm supposed to go."

"In other words, when Bella figures it out you'll be gone forever?" Alice chokes on the last word, and Edward reaches his other arm to wrap around her.

"Who knows, little one? Maybe the legend is true," he says trying to cheer her up. She smiles a teary smile. Even Emmett looks misty-eyed.

"I hope it's true," Emmett announces, and everyone nods in agreement.

"Me too, Emmett." I smile at him.

Carlisle, who has been quiet for the last couple of minutes, finally turns back to us with a sad expression on his face. He's been staring out the window.

"The sun will be setting soon," he whispers morosely, and everyone's turns to look out at the horizon as the twilight approaches.

Edward is the first to turn away from the window.

"I should be helping Bella get home. She doesn't know the way out of here," he quietly announces.

"Of course, son," Carlisle concurs, and Esme begins to cry.

Edward, noticing his mother's distraught behavior, quickly walks towards her and hugs her.

"I love you, Edward," she whispers into his chest, and Edward says it back proudly. Alice joins in, and before I know it, the Cullen family is embraced in a group hug by the piano. A few moments after the sun has fully set, I hear the family gasp as they can no longer see Edward, but they are still clinging to him.

They all pull away reluctantly, and Edward walks toward me.

"We should go before it gets too dark to drive out of the woods, Bella."

"Yeah, okay."

I turn to see everyone staring at me as I talk to him, and Alice's face breaks my heart because I know how badly she wants to still be able to see and hear him.

"Thank you for having me, and for not throwing me out like I was some sort of loon," I say, and Carlisle chuckles heartily.

"Not going to lie to you, Bella. I was convinced before you got here, that you were trying to pull the wool over our eyes, but you weren't. You brought us a gift, Bella, and for that we will be eternally grateful. Always know that you are welcomed here, whenever."

Edward smiles grandly and starts heading to the door, but he stops and rushes toward Alice and hugs her, lifting her clear off the ground. I'm sure it's an odd thing for the rest of the family to see. It probably looks like she floating in the air. Alice struggles with a reaction, not knowing whether to giggle or to cry. It ends up sounding like she's choking, but no one cares.

"Edward," she smacks at the air, missing him, as he puts her down. "That was not funny."

He chuckles before heading back toward me, and places his hand on my lower back. I shiver.

He's once again as cold as ice.

"Sorry," he apologizes sincerely. "I always forget."

"It's okay. Let's get out of here before I end up getting lost in the woods and eaten by a bear or worse a wolf."

"I would _never _let anything happen to you," Edward snaps seriously and the sincerity in his eyes is so endearing, as odd as that may sound. To know that he cares that deeply is an incredible feeling. _Edward Cullen cares for me_, I sing in my head as we head toward the door.

"Good night, everyone."

"Good night," they all reply as Esme and Carlisle walk me toward the door.

"You're welcome here anytime, sweetheart," Esme reminds me, and I smile brightly at her. Carlisle nods in agreement with her, and then says goodbye to Edward.

"Be careful, my boy," he tells him, and Esme adds that she loves him again. Edward extends his arm and places one hand in each of his parents. They shiver and look to me to confirm their suspicions. I nod, and they let out deep sighs.

"Good night," I bid one last time as I head over to my truck. Without even having to ask, Edward opens the passenger side door for me as he extends his hand out for my keys. Instead of arguing with him, I hand him the keys as he pops into the cab of the truck before I even hop in.

"I'm surprised you didn't fight me about this."

"Well, it's dark, and I don't know my way out of here. I'd probably end up hitting a tree," I jest, and Edward scoffs.

We drive off in silence until Edward speaks up again.

"My family loves you."

"You have an amazing family," I reply as I watch the trees whiz by us in my window.

"I know," he murmurs.

Once we reach the ends of the woods, Edward stops the truck.

"Thank you," he says as he turns to look at me. I sit there looking confused, and he can tell.

"Thank you for coming with me to see my family. I don't think it would have been easy without you," he clarifies, timidly.

"Anytime there's sun Edward, I'll be there."

He smiles and leans forward and leaves a sweet, cold, kiss on my forehead before pulling me closer to him.

"You're something else, Isabella Swan," he announces before popping into the spot I was just occupying. I chuckle as I slide the rest of the way into the driver's seat and start the car back up as we head back home.

**-X-**

"Bella, you're gonna be late," the voice of an angel whispers into my ear, though at this moment the voice is unwelcomed.

_Have I mentioned how much I hate waking up? No? Well, I do._

"Stop! I don't want to go to school. I want to sit here all day," I whine. Really what I want to do is go back to sleep to finish my dream: it's the same dream I keep having.

"Fine," he complies. He doesn't sound sarcastic or as if he's playing around.

"Really?" I ask, startled. His concession causes me to sit up in bed.

"No!" he shouts as he picks me up off the bed. _._

"Edward!" I whine, protesting as he walks us toward the bathroom.

"Come on, Bella. You have to at least attend half of your classes so we can head over to the Reservation." I huff in frustration as I try not to shiver against his shoulder.

On the drive home last night, we came to the conclusion that if I left school during lunch, then it would give me time to get to the Reservation and back home before my father, and before the phone call from the front office saying that I skipped the rest of the day.

"I know, I know," I mutter as he gently places me down on the cold linoleum floor of the bathroom. I miss his cold touch immediately. It's less irritating than the cold burning the soles of my feet.

"Fifteen minutes" he says, wagging a finger in my face as if I were a child. I shake my head and chuckle when he pops to wherever the hell he disappeared off to.

The warm shower water almost holds me captive as it cascades over me. It's incredibly soothing and if it isn't for the sound of the kitchen cupboard downstairs being closed, I would probably fall asleep standing up in the shower. I fight the urge and get ready. I head downstairs with three minutes to spare.

"I made you some breakfast." Edward shows off the bowl of cereal and orange juice on the kitchen table.

"You mean you poured some out of a box," I counter, and he chuckles as he takes a seat beside me. He's close enough for goosebumps to form on my arm.

"You smell clean."

"Thanks," I answer, sarcastically.

He chuckles and turns to stare out the window. "Another dismal day in Forks."

_What else is new?_ I wonder, but decide to keep it to myself. I can tell how much he would like there to be sun so he could sit and speak to his family again.

We remain silent, and my mind shifts to the dream I keep having, expect last night the dream was different. Something was off in the dream. It was the same party, and everyone was dressed the same. I could still hear Emmett making fun of Mike, but this time I was standing off to the corner, and there had been a new person, standing off to the side. He was a tall, blue-eyed, boy with hair the color of honey.

"You okay?" Edward breaks me out of my trance, and I nod as he takes my empty plate away and places it in the sink.

"You sure?" he asks as I stagger when I get up.

"Yeah, just got something on my mind. Let's go before I'm only _ten _minutes early." Edward chuckles lightly as we head over to the door.

As Edward holds the door open for me, I notice his shaky demeanor.

"Are _you_ okay?" I ask as we head over quickly towards my truck. He just shrugs his shoulders.

"You look nervous."

"I am," he answers honestly while he closes my door and pops into his seat.

"Why?" I ask, though I have an inkling of what it could be.

"What if the legend is true? What if you do have the ability to bring me back to life? Would you? And at what cost?"

"I hope it's true," I whisper and Edward smiles. He grabs my right hand and squeezes it gently. The cold shoots up my arm. I've become so accustomed to it, that it no longer bothers me as it did before.

"Me too," he says, "Me too."


	16. Chapter Fifteen: True Love Way

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen****:**

**True Love Way**

* * *

The car ride to school is dreadfully silent because I don't know what to say. My nerves are buzzing frenziedly everywhere in my body, causing my knee to jerk every so often as I step on the gas. I can feel the anticipation of the impending afternoon crawling through my veins. There is a tiny, tingling sensation running to and from the tips of my fingers as I grip the steering wheel.

My nerves are way past frazzled, and I don't even know any other way to describe the nauseous whirling of my stomach. I'm dying for the lunch hour to approach so I can drive over to the reservation to learn why it is that I can see Edward and what I need to do to help him, and I can tell I'm not the only one feeling this way.

Edward looks distracted as I drive. His eyes remain solely outside of the passenger side window. The sounds of the tires hitting the asphalt provide a soundtrack to our destination, and we both rock along with the cab of my truck as it hits the cracks and potholes on the main road in Forks. The constant rain doesn't really allow the asphalt on the roads to set, and the Department of Transportation is constantly repaving them, but in my opinion it's quite fruitless to do something, knowing the outcome is always the same.

As I pull into the parking lot, I can almost sense the second in which Edward pops out of the car. It's like the cold in the truck has just disappeared. It's a bit eerie and slightly disenchanting to see him disappear so quickly. I've grown so accustomed to seeing him every day, I can't even begin to think what things will be like when we finally figure out what happened the night of his death. I don't even want to think about how things are going to be when he's gone for good.

My heart pangs painfully in my chest at the thought. I can't even begin to imagine how all will change when he's gone. I'll go back to being alone at lunch, talking to only Angela during first period and spending most of my time in the school library.

_I'll go back to being the Bella that existed before Edward._

As I step out of my truck, I have to take a second to collect myself and wipe away the traitorous tears that threaten to fall._I'm pathetic for wanting this all to remain the same. He's technically not alive, but even though people can't see him, I know he's there, and that's enough for me._

I decide to walk through the cars along the front of the school to avoid having to walk by Edward and his family and friends. He's smiling as he stands between Alice and Emmett. One of his hands is in Alice's, and she's hiding it in her pockets, and Emmett is leaning into Edward, though it just looks like he's leaning on his leg. Both Alice and Emmett know he's there and they look happy to have him there. Edward just watches them with the love that only siblings know; it's beautiful.

I walk steadily along the cars, with my head down and hood up to avoid any possible looks from anybody, and I make it to my locker, unnoticed. It's as I open my locker that I feel the familiar whooshing of cold air.

"Hey, why did you walk the other way?" Edward asks as I fish in my locker for my history textbook for first period.

"Just felt like it," I murmur as I close the metal locker and start heading quickly to my classroom, five minutes early.

"Why are you running from me?" he shouts as I almost power walk to the history room.

"I'm not running from you," I reply as I sit down in my seat. The only other person in the classroom is Mr. Lewis, who's too busy setting up for today's pop quiz and lesson to notice my presence. _Someone not noticing I'm there. What else is new?_

"You just were," Edward hisses while he kneels beside me. I shiver as the cold surrounds me completely.

"You looked happy with your family."

"Again?" he scoffs. "How many times do I have to tell you—" he begins, but I raise my hand to stop him, and I lift my head up to face him.

"Have you been crying?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.

"No," I choke on the word, the urge to cry starts up again.

"Why are you crying?" His hand makes it way to mine and he grips it tightly; the cold burns but I wouldn't want it any other way.

"I was thinking about when we actually figure this out, and you're actually gone. Everything is going to go back to how it was," I answer honestly, and Edward pulls away.

"I wish things would have been—things will be diff—I don't know how to respond to that," he sighs defeated as he can't find the words.

"Does it matter?"

"I don't want things to be how they were before all this," he whispers. "Even if I'm gone for good, I want you to be the way you were when you were with me. You smile so much more now, and you've made my family happier than anyone I've ever known. When I'm gone, if I ever do leave, I want you to still be there for my siblings. I know it's selfish, but they need you, just as much as I've needed you."

We stare at each other before Angela interrupts us, unknowingly.

"Bella, are you okay?" she asks, starling both Edward and I.

"I'm fine, Ang," I reply, smiling. "Just some allergies, nothing major."

"Okay, it just looks like you were crying. You sure you're fine?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, Ang. I promise," I smile back as she turns to face the classroom, and I finally notice that the class has filled up and Mr. Banner is already starting to lecture on about something that holds absolutely no interest for me and discussing the pop quiz we would be taking tomorrow instead of today. All I can really think about is the afternoon on the Quileute Reservation and the answers to all my questions.

"You know?" I hear Edward whisper from the window. I turn to face him to hear him continue. "Angela is far _too_ observant," he finishes, and I have to stifle a laugh because I've been thinking the same thing for years.

**-X-**

The first two classes of the day drag on exactly as I knew they were, especially with Edward gone for the first half of second period. _I have no idea where he always disappears off to._

Just as I get ready to head over to my third period class, a small hand closes around mine and leads me toward the library.

"Alice, what are you doing? I have class," I protest as she drags me away from the direction I was walking, and I notice that there is a strong, shadow hovering over mine, and I turn to find Emmett smiling widely, dimples displayed proudly in his cheeks.

"Hi, Bella," he greets me and we slip into the library unnoticed by Mr. Ponce.

"What are you two doing?" I ask agitated as I see Edward walking smugly beside me.

"You had something to do with this, didn't you?" I hiss at him, and I hear all three Cullens laugh.

"Shh, Bella. People are going to think you're talking to the air," he teases as I'm brought over to the farthest table away from the front desk. At the table, Jasper and Rosalie are waiting.

"Hey, Bella," both of them greet me and I nod my head in acknowledgement.

"What is all this?"

"Well, Edward came by to my math class and left me a note to get Alice, and I decided to get Jazz and Rose to come as well," Emmett explains and I stare confused at him before turning to scowl at Edward. Both Rosalie and Jasper stare disbelievingly at Emmett. Rosalie's stare is far worse than Jasper's; she staring at Emmett like he's just sprouted another head from his neck.

"What'cha do that for?" I ask Edward, and he just keeps on grinning. _That's getting annoying, Cullen. If you weren't as hard as a block of ice, I'd kick you._

"So you can really see him?" Jasper asks as he sits up straighter in his seat. I can tell that Alice has tried explaining the phenomenon to him before, but he has failed to really believe her. Rosalie just looks lost though there is a hint of curiosity in her eyes. It's blatantly obvious that Emmett has completely failed in every which way possible of explaining this to her.

"Yes," I whisper, tilting my head down to look away from the two blonds. I don't want to see their disapproving looks, even though I know that I'm telling the truth.

"Prove it," Rosalie exclaims skeptically and Edward rolls his eyes and shrugs his shoulders, murmuring, 'stubborn mule', and I snicker.

"What's so funny?" Alice asks while she takes a seat next to me. She's knowingly left that seat next to mine empty for him, and Edward takes it, smiling toward her, though she can't see him.

"Edward just called Rosalie a stubborn mule," I reply and Rosalie's eyes widen before they return to their normal size.

"That's doesn't prove anything," she retorts and I nod my head. I see Alice pulling out a sheet of paper and she hands it over to Rosalie, who just stares at it. Jasper remains silent, assessing the situation, his eyes constantly shifting from everyone's faces.

"Write something down, Rose," Emmett suggests and Rosalie shakes her head. With her dismissal, Jasper pulls the paper from her and writes his question.

"Where do I hand it off?" he asks timidly and I point to the empty chair.

I watch as Edward lifts the paper and Jasper's eyes reveal shock as do Rosalie's. Edward smiles timidly and shakes his head, grabbing a pencil Alice has provided, and scrawls his answer, and passes the paper back to Jasper.

"Thanks for letting me know," he answers the written response out loud, and Edward nods though he can't see him.

"What did you ask?" I inquire and he hands me the paper.

In neat little letters is the question, "**are you mad at me**," and Edward's response, "**of course not**."

"So, you really can see him?" Rosalie asks quietly and so unlike the confident person I'm use to seeing.

"Yeah," I nod my head.

"Why you?" Jasper asks, and all I can do is shake my head because I don't know.

"I have no idea, I really don't," I answer somberly and everyone's face shows a sense of hopelessness.

As soon as I answer, Edward pulls the paper back toward him and he begins writing away. The pencil is flying over the paper, and his fancy calligraphy slowly appears. Once he finishes, he hands the paper toward Alice. She smiles and chuckles as she reads the note. Everyone joins in her laughter as Alice reads, "**I'm glad she's the one who can see me. No offense, guys."**

"I'm glad it's her too, Edward," Emmett replies and I turn my head away from him to hide he heat that threatens to spread to my cheeks.

"Me too," Alice concurs and I smile timidly at her. The table grows silent with the confessions and we sit there with our hands folded on the maple library accessory. We're all startled when Edward once again snatches the paper and begins to write. Again, he chooses to pass the paper to Alice.

Alice reads the note and nods, passes it to Jasper, who in turn to passes it to Rosalie and it ends with Emmett.

"What?" I ask as they all sit and stare at me. Alice and Emmett both smile widely at me. Jasper smiles timidly though he still looks startled by the fact that his friend is still present and Rosalie actually looks just as nervous about the whole thing.

"What?" I repeat and Emmett passes me the paper. My eyes scan over the paper quickly before I scowl.

"That isn't funny," I hiss at Edward and everyone suddenly laughs.

On the paper, in Edward's perfect script it reads:

**Pass this paper to a different person.**

**Keep it away from Bella.**

"I just wanted to lighten the mood," he defends himself and I have to smile.

"Well, it was a success," I grin at him, and he smiles back grandly.

"So, you have no idea about why you can see him?" Rosalie interrupts the laugher.

"No. I wish I did. I know only what Edward and I have found on the Internet, which isn't exactly the best place to be researching this kind of stuff, and we also know a little about a Quileute legend about a girl who sees the ghost of her lover and gets him to come back to life."

"Come back to life?" Jasper interjects and all the Cullens nod their heads.

"How is that possible? Is it even possible?" Rosalie begins and Emmett scowls at her pessimism.

"I'm sorry, Em, but I don't want you to get your hopes up," she explains leaning her head onto his shoulder and grabbing his hand to hold. "I know this has been tough on you; I don't want you to go though losing Edward all over again."

I smile at the somber couple, noting how much love is pouring from Rosalie in that small embrace of her hands in Emmett's.

"So, the day of the accident in the parking lot—"Jasper begins. "—when Alice was shouting that she felt Edward, she really did?"

"Yeah. He can kind of take over a person's body and mind for a while. The only reason I'm still here is because Edward spirited Alice."

"Spirited? Like he possessed Alice?" Rosalie asks and I stifle a laugh as I heard Edward murmur, 'I'm not evil'.

"Yeah, kind of like that. He's done it quite a bit with a few people, including Emmett, but he can't do it to me."

"It felt weird when he took over me. All I could think or hear in my head was 'get to Bella'," Emmett adds and Alice nods in a way of agreeing.

"Yeah, the day of the accident, all I kept hearing was 'not her'."

"Wait, why did Edward 'spirit' Emmett?" Rosalie inquires.

"I got myself into a bit of trouble in Port Angeles, and Edward used Emmett to help me out."

"What now, though?" Rosalie speaks up again; there is still skepticism laced in her voice.

"I don't know, Rosalie, but I plan on finding out whatever I can from Billy Black down on the Quileute Reservation."

"And he will have the answers?" Jasper asks and Edward answers. "We don't know." It's the first thing he's said in about five minutes, and I turn to see him staring at his friends and siblings with such longing that I can almost fell the emotion running through my body.

"I don't know," I answer for Edward and he nods.

"So, why go down there, then? What if you don't find anything new? What if he's stuck like this forever?" Jasper argues and I sigh heavily, though a tiny flame of hope ignites in my chest at having Edward here for good, though I'd be the only one to see him.

"Because I know that Billy knows something. He was over my house the other day and he knew Edward was there, mainly because he had seen Edward earlier that day," I explain and Alice and Emmett nod, knowing why Billy had seen Edward.

"He can see ghosts, too?" Rosalie asks and I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't think so, but all of you could see Edward if there was sun out."

"It's true, Rose," Emmett comments. "Alice and I both saw him yesterday. We were even able to talk and touch him," his voice shakes and I realize that this is another one of those rare times that I'll get to see Emmett's emotions truly on display. Alice has tears in her eyes as she reaches out to toward Edward. Immediately, he snatches her hand and she shivers from the cold.

The school bell rings signaling the end of third period and we all stand up on instinct.

"When do you plan on leaving?" Emmett asks.

"Right before lunch, so I can get home before the call from the office."

"You should go now," Alice suggests.

"I would but—" I begin to protest but Emmett interrupts me.

"Go now, and we'll cover for you. Trust me," he smiles confidently; he looks smug.

"I don't—" I start again, but Rosalie leers at me, pointing toward the library door. There's a hint of a smile there though.

"Thank you," I bow my head toward all of them as I head out towards the doors leading to the parking lot. Moments later, Edward is sitting beside me as I try to maneuver my car as stealthily as possible across the parking lot exit.

"Isabella Swan, daughter of Forks' Police Chief, ditching school, tsk tsk," he teases as we make it down the main road. I pointedly turn to scoff at him and smile instead as he sits facing me.

"Shut up! I'm gonna be in so much trouble when I get home."

"You won't. Trust Emmett. He can provide a really good reason as to why you went 'home' early."

"I hope so. The last thing I need is one of those nasty little messages on the answering machine from the front office," I say and Edward chuckles. He looks seemingly relaxed, but I can tell he's nervous; his leg keeps bouncing up and down.

_Who knew? Even ghosts get nervous._

We drive toward Billy's in a nerve-wracking silence. Edward doesn't even suggest turning on the radio, which as I think about it, he didn't ask this morning either.

"Do you want to listen to some music?" I ask and Edward shakes his head 'no'.

"You sure?"

"Positive, Bella," he answers quietly.

For the next fifteen minutes we remain silent as we head pass the back of the **WELCOME TO FORKS **sign and toward the reservation. It's another ten minutes before we arrive at Billy's.

**-X-**

"I was starting to wonder when you'd finally show up," Billy says as he greets me at his door, he looks to both my right and left and nods his head, acknowledging Edward's presence. I peak inside the familiar house, and he assures me that Jacob is in class, where I belong at the moment; Billy never ceases to make me feel like one of his own children.

"So, you know why I'm here?" I ask as he points me in the direction of the kitchen. He follows suit a few seconds later, carefully avoiding nicking the walls with the metal spokes of his wheelchair.

"I'm assuming it has to do with a certain friend of yours," he smiles and I grimace.

"How long have you been able to see Edward Cullen?" he quickly adds and I'm taken aback by the bluntness.

"About a week now. He passed a week ago, on Saturday."

"I'm assuming that his appearance has changed drastically since the first day. Am I correct?"

"Yes," I whisper as Edward just sits still beside me, staring between Billy and me.

"You're getting closer then," he whispers and both Edward and I lean in closer to hear what he's mumbling.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You're starting to piece together the clues of his death, are you not?"

I nod my head.

"The closer you get to figuring it out, the more he seems to disappear," he states and questions all in the same sentence and I nod my head again. It seems like that's the only thing I can do at the moment.

He begins to say something but I interrupt him.

"Before you continue, can I ask you a few questions?"

"Of course, Bella. Just do not ask me something I cannot give you the answer to."

"Why me? Why can I see him? We never even talked before last week."

"I can't answer that question. It's up to you to figure that out," he replies and both Edward and I let out defeated sighs.

"Okay, what about being able to control another's body? Edward can slip into a person and become them for a moment." I ask,

"Ah, the tenure," he mumbles.

"What does that mean?" Edward asks me, and I shrug my shoulders as I wait for Billy to elaborate.

"The tenure is the act of a sprit controlling a live form, only when it pertains to their medium," he explains and both Edward and I do the same eyebrow raise.

"Medium?" I ask, bewildered.

"That's what you are Bella. You're a medium between this life and the next, for Edward at least. As far as the tenure, you say that Edward has been able to take hold of another being, but have you noticed a certain trend as to whom he has been able to control?"

I take a moment to list all the people I had seen Edward and suddenly what Billy says clicks, and Edward seems to have picked up on it as well.

"It was only people who were helping me somehow. He spirited his siblings to save me, Mike Newton to help me get to the nurse's office, my dad because he helps me move on everyday, is that why he can't do it to me."

"He can't use the tenure on you because you are his medium; you are helping _him_. You may have noticed that Edward can touch others when they speak to you, and not take hold of them," he reasons.

"What about in the hospital? I couldn't spirit my dad when he was helping you?" Edward argues and I shake my head.

"He was examining me, not helping, like you were able to hug Alice in the hospital as she was talking to me."

"But what about Mike that first time? And Alice and Emmett weren't going to help you? I used them to help you!" he protests, and I repeat the questions for Billy.

"The first experience of the tenure is one of the first things a ghost learns unexpectedly. His first encounter was a random fluke as it is with all ghosts, and using his siblings to help you was all the reason Edward needed to take hold of them. Edward's, all spirits, main priority is to keep their mediums safe. It's instinctual," Billy states and Edward and I both take in the new information.

"Ask him about the eyes, and the cold, oh, and the thing with the sun." Edward quickly says and I relay it all to Billy.

"Edward's eyes were perhaps his most expressive feature before, so in this state of limbo, his eyes change to reflect emotion. When his eyes turn red, you will know that you've solved the mystery."

"Red?"

"Yes, red. As far as the cold, that one is pretty obvious; he's dead. All living things lose their natural ability to produce heat when they die," he deadpans, and Edward snickers at the obvious explanation.

"What abut being able to see him in the sun? Why can I feel warmth in him then?"

"Warmth?" Billy asks; his curiosity piqued. "You should only be able to see him in the sun, but him being warm is impossible; he's dead."

"Edward feels almost alive in the sun. He has no pulse, but he feels warm to the touch."

"I don't know about that Bella. I know that the sun, like it does for plants, creates a sustenance that produces life, and that Is why others can see Edward in the sun, but I know nothing of him feeling alive. I'm sorry," he apologizes.

"That's alright. You've answered almost everything we both wanted to know," I comfort him, and Edward taps my shoulder to catch my attention.

"The legend," he reminds me.

"Can you tell me more about the legend of Kachina and Chebeyo?" I ask.

"There is not much more to tell you than that of which Jacob has already told you, except, have you been having dreams about the night of Edward's death?" he asks and my eyes widen, not expecting it.

"You've been having dreams about the night of the accident?" Edward asks me, his tone exhausted, frustrated and upset. "You weren't even there."

"Yes," I answer both of them simultaneously.

"Why didn't you tell me anything?" Edward protest, and I raise my hand to quiet him.

"What about these dreams?" I return my focus to Billy.

"In the legend of Kachina and Chebeyo, the only reason that he returns to life is because Kachina is able to return to the night of his death and prevent it."

"Like time travel?" I ask skeptically. _Let's get real here, that's not possible._

"Almost," he affirms. "In the dream, if you attempt to stop what happens that night then you change everything that occurred that night. You can prevent Edward's death," he begins and I gasp, a sudden sense of overwhelming happiness pervades all my senses as I turn to see the same expression splayed across Edward's face.

"Yes, but, it's very dangerous to tamper with fate, Bella. You shouldn't change anything. If you manage to prevent Edward's death, someone else will have to die in his place."

"But it's possible?"

"Yes, Bella. You should know by now that everything is possible. You can communicate with a spirit, this shouldn't come as too much of a surprise now."

"Who died in Chebeyo's place?" Edward asks and I repeat the question for Billy.

"Mhmmm," he sighs, "that one part of the legend that has never been passed down."

"Thank you," I say to Billy and he smiles at me.

"Of course, Bella. I'm sure all of this must have been overwhelming for you, until now."

"You have no idea, but I'm still wondering why I'm the one Edward can see. You have no idea why?" I ask, and I see a small smile pass his lips before he stops it from becoming fullfledged.

"That's for you to figure out, Bella; I'm sorry."

"Thanks anyway, Billy. Thank you for everything," I say as I head back toward my truck. Edward is already waiting for me, and he looks deeply upset.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, as I turn the key in the ignition.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were having dreams about that night, Bella? How could you not tell me something like that?" he shouts angrily as I drive out of the reservation.

"I didn't think they were important. I just thought they were silly dreams."

"Silly dreams, Bella? You can see me; I'm dead for crying out loud. Those dreams should have been huge, flashing signs that something is up," he continues to scream, and I try to ignore the reproaching tone, but I can't help it.

"I'm sorry, okay?" I shout back, and Edward shifts back in his seat.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to yell at you, it's just—I don't want anything to happen to you."

"What are you talking about Edward?"

"Promise me something," he speaks up again staring straight at me.

"Anything!"

"Promise me that you won't do anything stupid to help me. Understood?" he states and I nod my head, confused by the command. He continues, "I mean it, Bella. Promise? It would kill me to see you in my place."

"I can't promise, you that," I answer honestly, finally figuring it out what he's saying. He doesn't want me to get hurt trying to help him, but I can't promise him that. It's impossible; I would do anything to help him.

"Bella, please!" he pleads. "I rather be stuck like this forever, then see you get hurt. If you happen to dream about the party again, please do not change anything. Just let it be."

"If I dream about that night, you better believe that I'm going to do whatever it takes to prevent you from dying. I couldn't stand to watch you die because of me, Edward—being there and letting it happen— is just as bad as being the one who cut your brakes."

"Bella," he whispers, as I stop at a red light as we near Forks. His hand glides across the air and lands on my cheek; his thumb rubs cool circles on my warm cheeks. "Please, I beg you, leave it be."

"I can't. Our places should be switched," I finally say what I've been holding back for so long.

"Never!" he shouts. "Never say that again! Do you hear me? Think of your father."

The car grows silent after that as we head home. The whole time I'm driving, I try to will the car to go just a tiny bit faster so I can get home to change fate.

Regardless of Edward's pleas, I'm going to change what happened that night, no matter what it takes.

**-X-**

That night, as hard as I try, I don't dream of the party.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: The Ghost of You

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**The Ghost of You**

* * *

I wake up Tuesday morning in the worst of moods and Edward doesn't help the situation at all by laughing at my frustrated groans as I struggle to wake up.

"I'm taking it that you didn't dream about what you wanted to last night," he says with a bright smile. He looks smug and I groan, punching my pillow a bit, as I think about throwing it at him. _I wonder if it would have any effect at all. __Would he even feel it?_

"No," I groan in response. I sound like an irritable child, huffing and kicking the bed, but it's honestly the only time I wanted to think about the accident and the party and my subconscious wouldn't allow it. _Stupid subconscious. Stupid, stupid._

"Good," Edward happily replies.

"No; that's not good!" I retort as I sit up on my bed.

"Yes, it is Bella. The last thing I want is for you to do something stupid and get yourself hurt because of me."

"Edward, I have the ability to possibly bring you back into this world and back to your family and you don't want me to? Why don't you want that? Why are you so against it?" I ask vehemently, huffing in frustration.

Edward sits down beside me and immediately I control the urge to shiver as the cold from his rigid form overtakes my body. He's quiet, staring off into space, until he turns and stares straight at me.

"Because it might change everything," he barely whispers, but in the quiet of my room, it's not very difficult to hear.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Think about. If you change that night then technically that takes us back to a week ago," he explains and I nod my head trying to understand what he's trying to tell me.

"You're not getting it Bella," he reacts sharply. "A week ago, you and I weren't friends."

The sad, pleading gaze in his eyes and his explanation finally allow me to see what he's trying to say. It finally dawns on me that if I change that night, then I change everything we have, and what I've feared since hearing the legend can and most likely will become a reality,

_I'll go back to being the Bella that existed before Edward._

"Edward, it doesn't matter," I shakily begin to say, trying to comfort him and myself in the process. "You'll get your life back. You'll have your friends and your family. You don't need me," I meekly add at the end even though it kills me to say and makes the ache in my chest unbearable.

"I need you, Bella. None of it matter without you," he argues and I shrug my shoulders.

"You were fine before, besides you might not remember anything, so it's not like it _would_ matter."

"But what if you remember?" he protests and again I shrug my shoulders willing myself not to cry. The lump forming in my throat is impossibly tight and I can feel the tears starting to collect in my eyes.

"If I remember and you don't, what does it matter? You won't know, so you won't care."

"I won't care? Are you serious? I will always wonder why you look so sad, not knowing that I'm the reason. That kills me to know now."

"You won't know, so it won't affect you," I respond stoically as I step off the bed and head toward the bathroom. The tears are already starting to slip down my face, the tightness in my throat making it almost impossible to breathe.

"Bella, look at me," he demands as he grabs my arm softly and turns me around, just as I reach my bedroom door.

"I don't want to watch you sit alone, again. I know that if this all changes, I won't work up the nerve to talk to you, and if you remember what happened, you won't say anything either," he says as he brushes the cascading tears away. His fingertips cause tiny pinpricks of cold to tingle on my cheeks.

"Well if you _do_ remember, then you better work up the courage to say something," I reply through my tears and Edward smiles timidly at me.

"Promise me that if I don't, that you'll at least say something to me, even if it's just hello?"

"You know I won't. Do you know how odd that would look? Bella Swan walking by Edward Cullen and waving hello? Besides, you'd probably just ignore me like before," I murmur and the tears start to well again.

"I could never ignore you," he declares confidently. "Even though we didn't speak, I've always watched you. We never spoke, but I've never ignored you. I told you, at the very beginning of all of this that I had always wanted to talk to you. I admired you from afar, and now I get to admire you from up close. I don't want to lose that," he answers honestly and smiles down solemnly at me. The sincerity that is always present in his eyes makes my heart flutter and my face flush.

"I love that," he whispers as his cold knuckles brush against the apples of my cheeks, and he places a tender yet chaste kiss onto my lips.

"I hate it," I respond and Edward chuckles.

"Well, I love it. Now, go take a shower before you're late for school," he mildly scolds and I giggle.

"I haven't been late since you've shown up," I contend and Edward shrugs his shoulders.

"I hate being late," he admits. "My dad has this thing about being on time. He always says that 'if you're early, you're always on time'. He's pretty much drilled that into my head since elementary school."

"It's a good habit to have. I obviously hadn't heard of it before you," I say as I walk away to shower. As I reach the bathroom, I hear Edward already in the kitchen making me something to eat. I smile to myself as I finally head in to shower.

Twenty minutes later, I'm sitting down at the kitchen table eating some buttered toast and scrambled eggs.

"I don't want to go to school," I mumble through a piece of my toast. It's just toast, but he's even managed to make that taste better than any piece of toast I've ever _not_ burnt.

"You have to go to school, Bella. You have a quiz, remember?"

"Stupid history class," I say under my breath and Edward chuckles.

"You know I'll help if you need it."

"Look what I've done. I've turned model student Edward Cullen into a cheater," I joke around and he laughs heartily.

"Come on, I'm sure my siblings want to hear all about our visit with Billy."

"I almost forgot about that," I inwardly groan, not allowing Edward to see the nerves building within. Regardless of the fact that I've spoken to Alice and Emmett and even Jasper and Rosalie, it still unnerves me to no avail. Edward has let me know countless times before that I should have nothing to fear about them and that I shouldn't feel like they were better than me, but my inferiority complex is far too imbedded and engrained to truly be wiped away, even by someone such as Edward.

**-X-**

In no time at all, Edward and I arrive at the school parking lot and I park my car in the same spot I always do. As I step out of the cab of my truck, I spot Alice and Emmett standing beside their respective others. All four of them are engrossed in conversation and I can't help but smile as Emmett and Alice still manage to stand with a space between them for Edward and how they are still driving his Volvo around.

They don't see me as I close the door to my truck and walk around the front of it to avoid them, all the while Edward watches me from the main entrance of the school. When I reach him, he's scowling with his arms crossed across his chest.

"What did I tell you about hiding from my family?"

"Edward, I just don't want to talk to them right now. I promise I'll talk to them later," I whisper as I try not to draw attention to myself while I head over to my locker.

"You're lying," he chides as he looks down at me. I shake my head at him and roll my eyes all while looking for my history notebook in my locker.

"I'm not, I promise," I reassure him, looking straight at him.

"I still don't believe you," he jests, chuckling lightly. "I know you and you'll probably run to the library before anybody has a chance to even know you're here."

I bite my lip in shame as he stares down at me. In the short time that we've known each other, he's already able to discern what I'm planning to do.

"I promise that I will go the lunchroom during lunch," I hiss as we walk toward Mr. Lewis' classroom. I make sure to look to see if anyone is staring at me oddly since to them it looks like I'm talking to thin air, but no one seems to be paying attention to me. _What else is new?_

"Just because you say you will doesn't mean you actually will," he argues as I sit down and he takes a seat beside me. I already know that Angela wouldn't be coming to school today because she had to go to her grandmother's funeral in Port Angeles. She had let me know the day before, and she had already been excused for the quiz. _Lucky. _

"I will; I swear," I pout and Edward grins smugly. He reaches his hand out and flicks my bottom lip with his cold finger and I have to smile. It's childish but the thought behind it is sweet.

An extra crabby Mr. Lewis passing out quizzes interrupts our reverie.

"This is probably the hardest quiz I've given all year. You can blame my wife for that," he announces and we all stare bewilderedly at him and some students groan in annoyance. Rumor has it that he and his wife were in the midst of a nasty divorce.

"You may begin. Keep your eyes on your own paper and no talking," he lectures as the sounds of papers being flipped over fill the room.

I turn my paper over and Edward stands behind me as he reads the questions out loud and a wave of nostalgia overtakes me. We had been in this exact same situation the first day of our ordeal.

"The answers are D, C, A, E, A, A, C, E, B, D," he tells me with confidence even though I already answered the first five questions correctly. He sits down after and just watches me fill out the answers.

"I knew the answers," I whisper and Edward shrugs his shoulders.

"I did," I protest and Edward chuckles, keeping a close eye to see if Mr. Lewis has noticed me talking, but he's engrossed with his lesson book, furiously crossing out things and scribbling other nonsense.

"I know. I just wanted to be able to talk and to get you out of class sooner," he explains.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask curiously and Edward simply smirks and disappears from view.

"Mr. Lewis?" A lowly freshman boy walks into the room looking petrified. I notice the way he stands and stares at everyone but me and that's when I notice his eyes.

"Yes. What do you want?" Mr. Lewis irately replies.

"Isabella Swan is needed in the office. A family emergency of some sort," Edward cleverly lies, pretending to read something off a piece of paper. He takes a second to wink at me, and I have to resist the urge to scowl and to smile.

"Have you finished your quiz, Isabella?" Mr. Lewis asks and I nod my head. "Yes, sir."

"Well, then hand it in and go to the office."

I get up slowly and I walk toward him even slower, stepping over the student's book bags lying on the floor. I keep my face expressionless as I hand in my paper and walk out of the room. When I exit, I only find Edward waiting for me.

"What was that all about?" I ask as we head toward my locker so I can grab my notebook for my next class, but Edward grabs me and turns me around.

"Not necessary," he replies as he holds me the entire way to the library.

"The library?"

"Yeah, there are some people who want to talk to you," he smugly answers and I smack him lightly on the arm, retching it back immediately at the pain.

"Ow, I didn't even hit you that hard and it still hurt like hell," I moan in pain and Edward chuckles as I cradle my left hand in my right.

Alice greets me as soon as I'm in view of the corner table. Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper are seated at the table as well.

"How did they even know to come here?" I ask and Edward doesn't answer, opting to just whistle as we sit down between Alice and Emmett.

"Hey Bella," everyone greets me and I dip my head in acknowledgement.

"Edward left a note in my room to meet up here today," Alice begins and I turn to scowl at Edward who merely feigns innocent.

"So, I don't want to be rude," Rosalie begins, "but what did you find out yesterday at the Res?"

"Yeah, did you find out anything important? Useful?" Emmett exclaims and Jasper and Alice nod in concurrence.

"I learned a lot about what was going on. Billy confirmed my original theory that Edward has unfinished business and that's one of the reason why he's still here. He also told us that the other reason was because he wasn't supposed to die," I reply and they all remain silent and wait for me to continue. In their eyes, I can see what it is that they really want me to say.

"I can bring Edward back," I whisper and all four of them gasp in unison.

"Really?" Alice chirps and I nod, watching a smile form on her face along with Emmett's.

"Paper, give me paper," Edward requests and I pull a sheet out of my notebook and a pen. Quickly, he begins to write, passing the paper to Alice.

"Why not?" Alice asks passing the paper back to where she can only assume Edward is sitting.

"What did you write?" I ask and he passes the paper to me for a brief moment before pulling it back to continue writing. In his neat script, the message read:

**She can, but I won't let her go through with it.**

Again, Alice receives the sheet of paper and nods her head as she reads it.

"What?" Emmett asks agitated. "What's going on?"

"Bella _can_ change what happened that night, but Edward won't let her do it," Alice replies.

"Why not?" Jasper chimes in and both Rosalie and Emmett move in closer, wanting to know the same thing.

"Because she can get hurt."

All three of them sit back in their chairs in defeat.

"I'm going to do it!" I immediately interject and Edward slams the table. Though they can't see him, everyone was able to hear the slamming of the table, and a tiny crack has formed in the wood graining.

"You are _not _going to do anything!" he shouts angrily. "Do you hear me? Nothing!"

"I'm going to do whatever it takes, Edward. I don't care what happens to me!" I argue as I feel everyone's eyes on me.

"Bella?" he pleads as he sits back down.

"Whatever it takes, Edward," I affirm.

"Bella, we don't want you to get hurt," Emmett speaks up. "It's the last thing we want to happen, but how exactly can you fix what happened?"

"Emmett!" Edward shouts futilely.

"According to the legend and to Billy, if I dream about the night of the party, I can stop what happened. I can stop Edward from ever getting into the car," I respond and immediately Edward yanks the paper away from Alice and begins to write again, furiously scrawling along the loose-leaf.

Alice grabs the sheet and reads it for everyone, **"Someone would die in my place. Who do you think that would be?"**

"Bella, no," Emmett gasps. "As much as I really want you to do it, as much as Alice might want you to do it, promise me, all of us that you won't."

"I can't do that, Emmett," I counter, looking at each of them, Edward included.

"If—when_—_I dream about the party again, I _will_ change that night, regardless of what may happen to me."

"No!" Edward screams again, slamming his fist on the table, causing it to shake under all of our hands.

"Stop that before you actually break the table!" I scold. "How would we explain a broken table to Mr. Ponce?"

"I don't care, Bella. You cannot go through with this, I won't allow it."

"You can't control my dreams, Edward. I will do it when the time comes."

"Not to be a downer here, but how can you dream about the party, when you weren't even there?" Rosalie asks, and that fact suddenly dawns on everybody.

"I've dreamt of the party, already. I know you wore a red dress, and Emmett was making fun of Mike Newton as he played quarters. I know that Alice wore a gray dress, and Jasper matched her by wearing a blue shirt."

"How is that possible?" Alice asks, unbelievingly.

"I'm Edward's medium."

"Edward's what?" Emmett inquires.

"Medium. I'm the person who was chosen to help him figure out why he's still here and not wherever he should be. I can see what happened because I'm _supposed _to change it."

"That's freaky," he says and I chuckle.

"I guess that makes me a freak," I laugh and everyone joins in but Edward. He sits silently avoiding my glances.

"Thanks for everything," Emmett begins as the bell for the end of second period rings. I didn't even realize that first period had long been over. "I know I really appreciate everything you've done for us, and I'm sure Alice does to," he continues, turning to look at Alice who nods enthusiastically.

"Thank you so much, Bella," she exclaims and hugs me quickly, Emmett joining her.

"I promise that I will bring him back to you."

"No, Bella, you don't have to. Listen to Edward and just let it be," Emmett contends and everyone voices their opinion, agreeing with him.

"I'm going to. I promise," I declare and watch as Edward walks out of the library, head held down.

**-X-**

Four nights.

It's been four nights since visiting Billy and I have yet to dream about the party. As much as I will my subconscious to think of it, it's the last thing that my mind is allowing me to conjure up. Though the dreams I've had, the small minute ones during the short amounts of sleep I've managed to collect the last couple of days, aren't terrible, mostly about Edward and I, they're not what I want to be thinking of. _Most underappreciated dreams ever, if you ask me._

"Edward?" I call out to the empty room when I wake up on Friday. I've been calling for him since Tuesday morning when he walked out of the library.

I haven't seen him since, and it's terrifying me and making me ill, to the point that I 'm staying home today.

I finally head down into the kitchen at around ten, sulking as I sit down and eat a bowl of cereal, complaining to the empty room as I burn two pieces of toast.

By eleven, I'm sitting alone in front of the television, not bothering to turn it on. It's odd how Edward has become such a part of my life in such a short period of time, that I can barely function without him.

"Hi," a voice calls from beside me and I turn to find Edward sitting beside me.

"Where have you been?" I ask, coddling up close to him and he wraps an arm around me. I shiver and he's goes to pull away; I grab his arm and hold it tighter.

"I needed to be away for a while to see if I could do it—be without you, but I couldn't. All I could think about was you as I sat in my room."

"I know what you mean," I mumble into his chest as I shiver violently and he pulls away, but I remain sitting beside him.

"I thought everyday that you were going to have the dream and that I would wake up in my room and it would feel like just any other day. It killed me to think of what could have happened to you."

"I haven't been able to sleep very well to dream, so…" I let my sentence hang in the air.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes and I shrug the apology away. It's not necessary. If our roles were reversed, I wouldn't want him to change the events either.

"So, why are you not at school? I checked their before I came here."

"I felt kind of sick this morning. I thought I was going to throw up, and I was going to see if I could catch up on some sleep," I murmur the last part and Edward smiles sadly

"You don't have to be afraid to sleep just because I don't want you to," he laughs but it's tight in his throat.

"Sleep with me?" I ask and his eyes widen.

"Oh god," I whimper embarrassed, blushing furiously. "That came out all wrong." I defend myself and Edward chuckles. "That sounded terrible," I continue and Edward stops me by raising his hand to my shoulder.

"All wrong? Yes. I don't know about the sounding terrible part," he admits and I continue to blush. "I may be dead, but I'm still a guy, Bella."

"Alright, let me rephrase that then. Will you sleep _beside_ me?"

"Of course," he graciously accepts the offer though I can see the trepidation in his eyes.

"I won't dream about the party," I offer and he chuckles as I slip back under the covers of my bed. Edward wraps his arms around me from the outside of the comforter so I won't be uncomfortable from the cold.

"Just sleep, Bella. You look tired," he sullenly replies and I brush a stray away from his face.

"It's not your fault."

"It is," he argues as he leans down to kiss me. My heart fills and burst as his cold lips press against my warm ones, creating the most intense tingling contrast of sensations.

"Sleep well, my love," he whispers into my ear as I begin to doze off. Before I finally drift off he whispers, "Goodbye, Bella. I love you."

**-X-**

I wake up and look around and suddenly I find myself in a room that's not my own. I look down and see the familiar Fork's High sweatshirt that belonged to Charlie. Instantly I climb out of the foreign bed and look to the time on the desktop computer screen in the room. I gasp as I read off the date.

_I'm at the party. I'm going to be able to change what happened._

Quickly, I hightail it out of the bedroom and descend the steps deliberately saying hello to people I'd never said hello to before. I know that I have to make my presence known to be able to change what happened. It's the only way that things can be altered.

As soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs, I instinctively turn left toward the bright, fluorescent lights of the kitchen and find everyone surrounding the kitchen counter and I hear Emmett shouting at Mike.

"Geeze, Newton, the whole point is to bounce the thing _into_ the cup."

Newton fires back his defense and I have to bite back the smile on my face as the adrenaline begins to pump through my veins. I can't believe this is really happening. _I've gone back in time. I'm going to bring Edward back,_

"Isabella?" Victoria is the first person to address me, and everyone in the kitchen turns to look at me.

"Hi," I meekly wave as I see Rosalie in her stunning red dress and Emmett's protective arm slung across her shoulders. Alice is the first person to wave at me.

"Hi, Bella," she greets me as she walks up to me and gives me a hug. "I'm glad you've finally decided to come to a party, finally."

"Yeah, thanks, Alice," I murmur and Jasper extends his hand in a greeting and I shake it. I can't get over the fact that I can feel them and that I'm speaking to them in the dream.

"Yeah, Bella, welcome to the fun," Emmett grins down at me and Rosalie nods in acknowledgement. Victoria just scowls distastefully and Edward smiles timidly and my heart suddenly tears a bit as he doesn't recognize me.

"Who invited you?" Victoria asks nastily and Edward reprimands her.

"Who cares who invited her Vic, let her be. It's nice to see you hanging out, Bella," he defends me and I smile brightly at him.

"Yeah, it is nice," James creepily adds as he walks into the room and I watch Edward tense beside Victoria.

"James," he introduces himself and extends his hand out toward me and I shake it cautiously. "Why don't you and I get to know each other a little better?" he propositions pointing toward the backyard.

"How about you just let her be?" Edward retorts as he steps beside me. He stands about three inches taller than James and he looks intimidating as he towers over him.

"Oh quit it you two," Alice interjects and pulls me aside to watch the game of quarters, and Edward goes back to stand by Victoria, but his eyes shift to me on occasion as we watch Mike lose miserably.

"Hey, Vicky," a voice sounds from the other corner of the room and the honey blond from my dream the last time, makes his entrance.

"Riley!" Victoria excitedly hugs him and winks at him as she keeps an arm around his waist and introduces him to everybody as a "really good friend" from her old elementary school.

"Hello everyone," he smiles at everyone, but me. He stares at me skeptically and turns to Victoria, who shrugs her shoulder. "I didn't know anyone else was coming," she whispers to him, but I manage to read her lips.

There's something fishy about their relationship and James and Edward seem to pick up on that as well."

"So, you guys haven't gone to school together since elementary school and you're still friends?" I ask, and Victoria scowls viciously at me, nodding her head as Edward stares at me curiously.

"Yeah, me and Vicky go way back," Riley offers, much more friendlier than Victoria. "That's why I came over. My mom wants to know if you just want to stay over tonight, instead of having to drive all the way to Seattle tomorrow."

"Aw, Riley. You could've just called to ask. I would, but I would have to go home first to get my stuff. It's already packed, but I need to get it," she cheerfully addresses him, and suddenly things start to fall into place.

"So send someone to get it," he suggests and Victoria nods quickly.

"James, would you be a doll and get my bag from my house?"

"Why me?" he asks confused. "Send you boyfriend," he counters, pointing at Edward, and Victoria pleads with him to do it.

"No, send Edward," James protests.

"I'll go," Edward replies reaching out to grab James' car keys from him.

"No!" I shout, surprising everyone, but no one mentions it because Riley is already talking again.

"James you should go, it's your car," Riley argues and I notice how passionately he's arguing for James to drive the car.

_James was supposed to die._

_Riley cut the breaks. _

"Why don't Edward and James go?" Victoria adds and I realize that Victoria must have been the one to mastermind the whole thing because she's willing to let both James and Edward get in the car.

"I'll do it," Edward protests as he pulls the car keys from James' hands and starts heading out toward the front door.

"No, Edward, don't!" I scream and he turns to face me, shocked by my request. I have my back against the open front door, the cold air hitting my back soothingly.

"You can come with me if you'd like," he smiles hopefully at me. I shake my head and the smile disappears.

"Riley did it," I tell him and he just stares at me confused.

"Riley cut the breaks," I say this time and I watch as Edward shakes in front of me and drops the car keys, and suddenly when he looks back down at me, his eyes are red.

"Bella," he whispers and I know that this is my Edward.

"It was Riley," I tell him. "He cut the breaks, but it was supposed to be James, but you had to be stubborn and take the keys."

"And?" he asks.

"I think it was all Victoria's idea," I answer and as soon as I say, he fades again.

"Bella?"

"Edward," I say before I bend down and grab the car keys much to Victoria and Riley's dismay. I can see them watching the exchange from the kitchen, everyone's mouths gaping open at the translucent Edward.

"Bella, give me the keys," he demands and I shake my head.

"Give me them, Bella," he orders and I take a step back toward the open door and run out and hurry down the stairs toward the red car that I had seen James pull up in at school times before. The doors are open when I get there, which isn't odd for a town as small as Forks. Quickly, I stick the key in the ignition and start pulling out of the parking spot.

"Bella get out of the car! What are you doing? You know what's going on!" Edward pleads with me as I turn the key in the ignition. I start to back away slowly but Edward still manages to hop into the passenger seat.

From the rearview mirror I can see Victoria and Riley arguing with Alice and Emmett punching Riley square in the jaw. I see them start to run toward the car, but I still pull the car out of the driveway.

"Bella, stop this right now. Bella!" Edward screams right by my ear, but I'm out of the drive way and driving onto the familiar stretch of barren highway.

"Edward, I have to do this. You heard Billy. This is the only way to bring you back."

"He didn't say you had to kill yourself in my place," he begs, trying to pull me away from the steering wheel.

"That isn't going to make things better Edward," I inform him, yanking the wheel toward the left. His eyes widen at the sudden movement as my foot gently steps harder on the acceleration. We're starting to go faster, and the curve where Edward met his end is slowly approaching.

I turn to stare at him and he's staring right at me, his eyes blazing red, pleading me to get out of the car. It doesn't escape me that he's still present. We've figure out why he died, but not why he was still here, and suddenly things that Edward has said starting playing in my head.

"_I've always wanted to talk to you, Bella."_

"_I've admired you from afar, and now I get to admire you from up close."_

"_I love you."_

I know what I have to do, now.

"Edward," I begin, and he senses what I'm about to say. I see the realization in his eyes; they begin to glow a deeper shade of red.. He knows once it's said, it can't be taken back.

"Bella, please don't!" he pleads, his eyes darting from the familiar stretch of asphalt to my face.

I let go of the wheel and turn to face him. _What's the point of trying to control the car when I already know my fate?_

"Edward," I start again, and his eyes close. He knows what's coming.

"Please, Bella, don't," he whispers, pleadingly.

"I love you, Edward."

"Bella!" he shouts as he grabs my arm, but still disappears from sight.

I turn to face the front of the car, and suddenly everything goes black as I crash.

Whoever said death is painless—is a liar.


	18. Chapter Seventeen: In This Life

**Author's Note**: This story is written in a colloquial, first person point of view, so you as a reader can feel like Bella, and hear her thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen****:**

**In This Life**

* * *

I turn over the next morning expecting to find myself under six feet of dirt or mangled amongst metal car parts, but instead I find myself turning over on my comfortable bed, entangled in my sheets. I end up knocking all of my pillows over as I reach over to swat at the screeching alarm clock on my nightstand. I miss the thing, miserably, and end up rolling off the bed and onto the floor, rolled up like a burrito in my sheets. I cause such a commotion with the plunking sound my bones make on the floor that Charlie comes barging into the room. _This day is already starting horribly,_ I groan to myself. _This is _just_ great. Five minutes into the day, and I've already tasted the floor. _

"Bella, are you alright?" he asks concerned. I can see that he's just about ready to leave to work. All he has to do is tighten his belt, and he'll be able to leave for the station.

"You can see me?" I mumble against the floor, wondering if perhaps Charlie is seeing me as a ghost, and not as Bella the living, walking accident. Charlie chuckles confirming that I'm still alive, and he walks over to help me up.

"What kind of a question is that?" he asks as I start placing the fallen pillows back on to the bed.

"Nothing. I just had a _really_ weird dream—is all. It felt so real," I comment, and Charlie shakes his head in that way that he always does. It's one of the only things that Charlie does that is remotely paternal.

"You and those dreams, Bella. Last night you were screaming something about someone cutting the brakes of a car," Charlie comments lightheartedly as he walks back toward the door. "I'm heading off to work; I'll see you later. I'll bring some pizza for dinner, so don't worry about cooking, alright?"

"Okay, Dad. Have a good day."

"You too, Sweetheart," he quietly says and walks down the stairs. Our relationship isn't the best is could possibly be; we aren't exactly that close even though my mother's death brought us closer than before, but sometimes Charlie and I share a few precious moments that I treasure. Sometimes he knows exactly what to say.

I flop back down onto my bed and rub at my eyes to wipe the sleep away and the crustiness that has managed to accumulate in the corner of my eyes. I rub the dried up drool around my chin as well, and I remain still on my bed after that. I just stare up at the ceiling wondering if anything that I remember had actually happened in the last few days. _Was any of it real? Or was it all just an elaborate dream? _

I wonder if I really changed the events of the party, but if I had, I should be dead, and yet here I am lying on my bed. I wonder if Edward is gone forever and suddenly I jump up off my bed, struggling against the mattress shortly, and I call out for Edward, fruitlessly. I walk towards the window to see if he may be outside, but nothing. He doesn't answer and I sink back down onto my bed in sighing in anguish.

Realization hits me hard as the moment.

He's gone.

He is _really_ gone, and I didn't change anything.

In the legend, Kachina wakes up beside her love, but I woke up alone. I had managed to either help Edward pass on, or none of this was ever real.

If it was all real, I had failed, not only his family but myself. I actually believed that I would be able to bring Edward back. I believed that I actually had the ability to change everything and to actually bring him back to the people he loved. _Who was I kidding? Why did I ever think that _I_ had that skill? _

I roll over in bed as I get up and I begin to sulk toward the bathroom. I'm already dreading the disappointed the looks of his siblings as I walk by them to tell them that Edward has passed on to wherever he was supposed to go the first time and that I had failed in bringing him back, even though in the dream I sacrificed myself.

I step into the shower with a frown on my face and spend most of it just letting the scalding hot water beat against my back as an almost a punishment for failing. The water burns, but not as much as the searing ache in my chest. My heart feels demolished as if someone took a shotgun to it and just let it explode in my chest.

I brush my teeth in such a slow motion that it takes me five minutes before I realize that there's no toothpaste on my brush; the lack of froth around my mouth giving that away. I take an even longer time brushing out the knots in my hair, sighing disgustingly when I see all the hair that has managed to get stuck between the teeth of the hair brush.

When I step back into my bedroom, I'm taken aback by the sense of emptiness that radiates from it. It feels empty without Edward's presence. I can't express it, but in the last two weeks, I became so accustomed to finding Edward sitting at the end of my bed or in the rocking chair in the corner. His presence created such a feeling of content and warmth in my room—in my life. Now, it just felt barren and cold.

As I struggled to find something comfortable to wear and pretty much something I could hide in, I realize that there's only twenty minutes left before first period, and I'm not even dressed yet. I ransack my closet, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt. I trip risibly over my feet as I struggle to put my socks on at the same time as slipping my feet into my shoes. It's not a smart move, but I'm trying to rush through my routine. My clumsiness only manages to sadden me even more because I no longer have Edward there to catch me before I fall.

I tread down the stairs, carefully aware of the fact that no one was waiting at the bottom to catch me if I tumbled down them, and I successfully make it all the way to my truck unscathed; a great feat for me.

When I actually step into the cab of my truck and go to put my key into the ignition, I notice that the radio Edward had installed is no longer there. All that sits there is the original broken stereo system I originally had, and my head sinks down against my chest as I start to notice that things are exactly as they were before. Without Edward, my life has managed to revert back to the dismal existence I once lived.

I drive toward the school as fast as my poor truck can handle, and I make it to the front entrance just as the late bell begins to chime. I sprint down the hallway toward my locker to retrieve my books, bypassing my classroom and heading toward my locker. As I make the final turn to reach it, I trip face first down onto the cold, dirty linoleum floor.

"Ugh," I groan in pain as I pull my face off the linoleum. It's managed to actually stick to the plastic like material of the floor.

"Could this day get any worse?" I mumble as I push myself up off the floor. I rest on my knees as I brush the dirt off the front of my sweatshirt before a voice startles me and causes me to sit down on my calves.

"It could," a velvety voice remarks and I look up to find Edward leaning against my locker with a book back slung on his shoulder and my history textbook in his hand.

"Edward!" I gasp as walks toward me and extend a hand to help me up off the ground, and I notice how warm it feels in my mine.

"You're wa—" I begin to say, but Edward interrupts me.

"Warm. You did it, Bella," he proclaims proudly as he drops his bag and my book to the ground and pulls me into a hug. I relish in the warmth of his body and the softness of his features as he holds me tightly. His chest still feels strong, but no stone like as before.

"I can't believe it worked," I mumble against his chest ,and he chuckles lightly. I feel the rumbling of it against my cheek. I can't help but smile widely at the realization that I had actually succeeded and that I had really managed to bring Edward back. _It wasn't all a dream,_ I chant in my head blissfully.

"What did your family say?" I ask as I pull away and Edward turns to look around the hall before he leans down to pick up the fallen items.

"Nothing. They don't remember anything, Bella. As far as they know, the party was great and nothing else happened except that Victoria and I broke up when I found her making out with that Riley guy."

"Riley? The blond guy?" I ask and he nods his head as he leans back against the lockers.

"Yeah, the guy who cut the brakes. Apparently, he was trying to get rid of James because Victoria was going to leave me for him, and Riley apparently wanted her to leave me for him."

"So he wanted to kill James for Victoria?" I ask incredulously and Edward nods again.

"Apparently, he already knew that Victoria was seeing James behind my back so I posed no threat to him."

"Wait, how did you find all of this out after you vanished?"

"Bella," he smiles down at me. "When you got into that car, you changed _everything_. I got to relive that entire night after I disappeared, though I didn't have much fun. All I could think about was you in that car," he quietly spoke, shaking his head before letting it fall.

"Hold on!" I gesture with my hands and Edward tilts his face to meet mine. "Are you telling me that after you disappeared from the car, you relived the whole night? Honestly?"

Edward nods his head before explaining. "Yeah. I was back in the kitchen with Victoria asking me to get her things at her house. This time I said no after James denied her. She stalked away with Riley and I followed and found them kissing and scheming to get James to get the bags, seeing as that was their original intention. I called her out on cheating and even managed to warn James about the brakes. I ended up leaving the party with Alice and Jasper in his car, shortly after."

"Wow," was all I manage to say as I lean against the locker next to Edward.

"I know," he breathlessly responds and we stand still for a few moments.

"I can't believe all of this is real."

"Me neither," he responds and turns to face me. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispers as he reaches his hand out to touch my cheek. "When I left the car, all I could think about was you. I relieved that night, but when I woke up it was Monday, and I thought you were gone forever. I was going to drive by your house, but if you were really gone, I didn't want to disturb your father."

"I had to get in that car. You heard Billy. Someone had to die in your place."

"That didn't mean it had to be you, though luckily for everyone, no one got hurt that night."

"It did have to be me. I was your medium, and that was the only way to help you," I explain and Edward shakes his head.

"I suppose," he grumbles. "I'm just so happy that you're here. I've been waiting by your locker for an hour."

"Is it the Monday after the party?" I ask.

"Yeah, we've gone back in time, it seems."

"This is so weird. How is that even possible?" I ask disbelievingly and Edward shrugs his shoulders.

"How was it even possible to see me when I was dead?" he retorts and I chuckle.

"I don't even know what's real anymore," I mumble and Edward nods his head in agreement.

"I told you I saw big foot in the woods that day," he jests and I burst out laughing.

"Shut up," I reply, smacking his arm lightly and Edward grabs a hold of my hand.

"I'm so happy that you're okay."

I nod my head just as the bell rings; first period is now over.

"I should get my stuff so I don't miss second period as well," I mumble and pull myself away from Edward as I watch Alice and Jasper walk toward Edward from their classroom.

"Before you go," he answers, pulling me back. He leans down and kisses me just as everyone begins to flood the hallways; I can feel their eyes on us. I relish in the feeling of his warm lips against mine and I let him pull me up against him as he leans against the lockers. My hands find their way to the hair at the nape of his neck and just as we are about to get carried away, Alice's voice interrupts us.

"Wow, I can't believe you finally told her," she chuckles at Edward pulls away from me, but grabs my hand to hold me close.

"Yeah, I'm just glad she feels the same," he responds and winks at me knowingly.

"I knew she would," Alice comments and for a moment I wonder if she remembers anything that happened, but she disproves by beliefs.

"Hi, I'm Alice and this is Jasper," she introduces and I nod toward both of them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"Will you be joining us at lunch?" she asks and Edward answers for me.

"Of course she will," he smiles down at me and I smile back up at him.

"See you then, Bella," Alice cheerfully waves as she heads across the hall toward her own locker. Jasper waves goodbye to both of us and follows her.

"Where were you going before?" Edward turns to me and inquires seriously.

"What?"

"Before, when you saw Jazz and Alice walking this way, you were going to leave, right?"

"Yes," I shamefully respond, nodding my head.

"Just because we changed what happened that night, doesn't mean my feelings toward you changed. I love you, Bella," he declares firmly and the sincerity in his eyes that always manages to blow me away is present. I believe him wholeheartedly, my heart fills and bursts and the butterflies in my stomach begin to flutter manically.

"I love you, too," I respond and Edward leans down and kisses me again, ignoring the shocked expressions of our peers who hadn't seen the first kiss.

In another life, Edward and I would have never existed as a couple, the two of us wouldn't even be friends, but in this life we had each other, and for once my existence wasn't so bleak.

**=FIN=**

* * *

**A/n****: **We've reached the end loves. I can't believe it, either. This was my first venture into writing Twilight fanfiction, so this is bittersweet. Thank you to all the people who have followed this story from the beginning and to all of those who caught up, later on.

I hope you all enjoyed it.

Again, thank you all so very much,

~Jen


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